To you my dear, I wish no harm
by hardly loquacious
Summary: "I'm supposed to hate her. That woman ripped my heart out of my chest and chopped it in half before running over it with a bulldozer and then tossing it into a shredder just to be sure there was nothing left. I had every right to be pissed as hell." He was allowed to be angry with her, he was just getting sick of it. He wanted to see if they could try something different.
1. Prologue

A/N: Alright, here it is, the Prologue of what is shaping up to be a rather large undertaking. Oh well. I'm having fun writing Mackenzie/Will, so why not keep going? This is in part born out of my love of both characters, and the little things I can't stop noticing about them and how they interact, and my love of Will's scenes with his psychiatrist. I hope you enjoy the fic. It might jump around timeline-wise, I think.

xxx

To you, my dear I wish no harm

xxx

Prologue

xxx

"How are you today, Will?" Dr. Habib asked, opening the door of his office.

Will deliberately lightened his voice as he walked into the room. "Oh you know me, Mr. Cheerful."

"I certainly know that's what you like people to believe," the doctor said as he sat down in one of the chairs.

Will sat in the other. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means?"

Will couldn't hide the flash of annoyance. "Oh come on, don't be such a cliché."

"There's a reason things become clichés," Dr. Habib pointed out.

"And I'm no doubt your use of this one had some deep, sociological meaning meant to shine light into the deepest part of my soul," Will said with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

"Actually, this one barely even scratches the surface." Dr. Habib countered.

Will raised his eyebrows.

The psychiatrist leaned back in his chair. "I think you want to be cheerful," he said eventually.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"No."

Will found himself getting annoyed. Not an uncommon occurrence in his shrink's office. This was exactly why he'd stopped coming to appointments. "Oh right, _everyone's_ different."

"Not everyone wants to be cheerful," Dr. Habib assured his companion. "Some people want to be fulfilled, or respected, or calm and contained. Some want to be fierce or threatening. Do you honestly believe that a gang member or a funeral director wants to be described as cheerful?"

Will had to concede the point there. "No."

"No."

In the ensuing silence, Will considered the point. "But you think I do?"

"I do," the younger man said with a nod. "And I think you're not, and that's why you developed this gruff, sarcastic, slightly off-putting thing you've got going on. You want to keep people away. Because then you have an excuse not to be cheerful, and you don't have to think about any of it too hard."

"Well, don't you just have all the answers," Will muttered, glancing around the room.

"Not all, but a couple of them," Dr. Habib agreed. "So what do you think?"

"What do I think?"

"It is your session."

"I think if you only have so many answers you can give me that I should get to pick the question," Will said, deciding he really didn't feel like commenting. "Since it is my session."

Dr. Habib leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands and resting his middle fingers together, just under his nose. It wasn't often that a patient, any patient, admitted that they had a specific question. With Will McAvoy, it was almost unheard of. And it meant Jack was more than happy to go with the change in the subject. "Alright," he said easily. "You pick the question then."

Will paused.

"Go on, Will," Habib encouraged gently.

Will scowled in spite of the other man's tone (or maybe because of it). "Fine oh wise and almosg-all-knowing sage, advise me. How does one go about forgiving someone?"

xxx

TBC


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: And here we go, Chapter 1 up slightly faster than I was expecting. The next one might take a bit longer, so I hope you enjoy this one in the meantime.

xxx

Chapter 1

xxx

_"Go on, Will," Habib encouraged gently._

Will scowled in spite of the other man's tone (or maybe because of it). "Fine oh wise and almost-all-knowing sage, advise me. How does one go about forgiving someone?"

xxx

Dr. Habib was only able to hide his smile thanks to years of practice. Also, it didn't hurt that his hands were still half-obscuring his mouth.

"Who are you trying to forgive?" he asked, trying to keep the laugh out of his voice. He'd wondered if they'd ever get here.

Will glared at his doctor, obviously unimpressed with the question.

This time Jack didn't flinch, even going so far as to raise an eyebrow (or two) of his own.

Will's sigh was almost imperceptible. "Who do you think?" he grumbled. "The same person I've been trying to forgive for almost five goddamn years."

"Have you?" Dr. Habib asked almost absently. "Been trying I mean."

"Of course I've been trying!" Will exploded in frustration.

Habib was silent.

Will deflated somewhat. "At least, I think I have."

"For _five years_?" his psychiatrist double-checked.

Will actually considered the question. "Well, I suppose not the first year or two," he admitted begrudgingly.

"Or three," Habib corrected.

Will grimaced, but acknowledged the truth of it. At least to himself. "Alright, for the first little while, I admit, I may have been essentially living my life hating Mackenzie."

"Or trying to pretend you didn't care."

Will chose to ignore the other man's contribution. "And what was so wrong with that? Why shouldn't I have hated her?" he asked. "I'm supposed to hate her. That woman ripped my heart out of my chest and chopped it in half before running over it with a bulldozer and then tossing it into a shredder, just to be sure there was nothing left. I had every right to be pissed as hell."

"No one's saying you didn't," Dr. Habib assured Will.

"And the whole time she was gone, she kept sending me these e-mails. Did I ever tell you that? Every so often I'd get one, usually whenever I thought I might have almost forgotten about her. They were all the same, apart from the description of exactly what she was seeing, which admittedly was… well, Mac's a good reporter. But they were all full of explanations, and apologies, or some other nonsense. I didn't read them all."

Jack decided to let that little white lie slide for now. Or maybe it wasn't a white lie. Maybe Will really hadn't read one or two of the e-mails. But he'd certainly read the majority. Wouldn't have been able to help himself. Still, best to fight one battle at a time with some patients.

And Will wasn't done ranting. "And _then, _after three years, three years, she shows up in my newsroom! Just walks right in, bold as brass. No one even asked for my opinion. Like her being my EP was going to be a walk in the park."

"Do you think that was easy for her?" Jack asked. "Do you think you were the only one in pain?"

Will decided he wasn't going to answer that question either. "I didn't care if she was in pain."

Dr. Habib made a mental note of the use of the past tense, but didn't interrupt.

"Anyway, that's not the point," Will insisted. "I had every right to be angry with her." He really was _supposed_to be angry with her; he was just getting sick of it now.

"So did you stop having the right, or did you stop being angry?" Habib asked with a twinkle in his eye, deciding maybe he would draw attention to verb tense after all.

"No, I was still angry, sometimes I still am" Will admitted. "It was just... less, after a while."

Dr. Habib leaned forward and cut to the chase. "And now you want to forgive her?"

"Yes," Will confirmed with only the slightest of hesitations.

"Are you sure?" Habib asked.

"Yes!" Will said more firmly this time.

Dr. Habib couldn't resist. "You're really sure?"

Will looked annoyed.

His doctor just smiled. "So what brought this on?" He'd been expecting something like it eventually, but he had no idea what the proximate cause was.

Will shrugged awkwardly, before natural ability took over. "It seemed like a thing I should do, finally. Besides, don't you mental health advocates just love forgiveness? Aren't you always talking about how good it is for people, how it lowers stress and promotes wellness or some similar crap?"

wasn't insulted. He'd heard worse. Anyway, for all his supposed scepticism, Will did seem to be putting his faith in said crap. Or at least was willing to give it a try. Some people had a lot trouble directly asking for help. Sometimes you had to let them come at it sideways. "Yes, forgiveness is generally viewed as a positive thing. But it can't be forced," Habib cautioned.

Will scowled. He hadn't expected a miracle pill, but a little encouragement wouldn't have gone awry. "Great. Well, thanks for all your help on this one Doc."

"I didn't say I couldn't help you," Dr. Habib pointed out.

Will looked up warily, but Jack thought he might have seen a little hope there as well. Just a little. "Though, if you want me to help you, you should probably answer my questions."

"What do you think I've been doing for the last year?" Will wondered.

Habib was a firm believer in the brutal truth. "A weird mixture of cooperation and screwing around."

"What questions?" Will asked in resignation.

"Let's start with my last one," Jack suggested. "And this time, I'd appreciate it if you actually tried to answer it. Why is it suddenly so important that you forgive Mackenzie?"

Will turned to stare out the window.

Dr. Habib leaned forward slightly. "What really brought this on, Will?" he asked again, more gently this time.

Will sighed (audibly) and muttered something sideways.

This time the doctor did grin, sure it wouldn't be noticed. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Will turned to face him, and if he'd been anyone else, Dr. Habib would have described his expression as sheepish. "A dance, alright. It all started with a dance."

xxx

Office Christmas parties were always the worst. They were awkward, full of people who didn't really know each other, or didn't like each other, all trying too hard to have a good time anyway. And, unlike the New Year's party, which had been held at the actual office, this year's Christmas party one was off-site, which meant that Will didn't even have an office to hide in.

Which meant that he had to mingle.

At least he was done with the courtesy rounds. Now he could spend his time lingering around the edges of the party with a glass of really quite decent scotch. Sloan had been keeping him company for a while, but she'd stormed off about half an hour ago to go yell at Don for something or other (Will didn't really care what). Charlie had replaced her, but the head of the news division had eventually deserted him as well.

Okay, it hadn't actually been a desertion. Charlie had been attempting to draw Will back into the centre of things, and, when the anchor had resisted, had moved on in search of more enthusiastic employees.

A.k.a Mackenzie McHale.

Charlie had somehow noticed that Mac was no longer surrounded by a chattering crowd of newsroom employees, but was instead also standing off to the side by herself. Never one to pass up an opportunity to spread good cheer, Charlie had gone to claim a dance. Not without a snide comment to Will first, of course. This one had been about how, unlike some people, Charlie wasn't going to act like an anti-social asshole and let opportunities just pass him by.

As Charlie passed the gaggle of Newsroom youngsters, Will swore he heard the other man yell "Carpe Diem!" A toast that was enthusiastically seconded by the inebriated group.

Mackenzie had agreed to the dance immediately, of course. Will had watched his boss and his EP spin around the floor. Both of them were good dancers, and it was unsurprising that Charlie was graceful. He even managed to compensate for Mac's occasional clumsy spells. Will remembered well what it was like to dance with her. Everything would be going along fine and then, all of a sudden, and for no apparent reason, she'd well, it was almost like a flinch. It wasn't quite a misstep, and it certainly wasn't a trip, but it was like she had all this bottled up energy that had to flash out somehow. And did, in the most unexpected of moments.

95% of the time she'd be practically perfect, then every so often, it was like her body insisted on turning slightly left, instead of slightly right.

Will smiled into his scotch. It certainly kept things interesting on the dance floor.

Actually, the dance floor had become a pretty interesting place in general. Charlie had started something. Not only did other Newsroom staffers start pairing up on the dance floor, but Will was amused to notice that Mackenzie was never short a partner. Not that it was surprising. She certainly looked good out there. Instead of wearing black, as she so often did, she'd opted for a simple forest green, knee-length dress. The colour was nice for Christmas, Will supposed. And of course, Mac always looked lovely. Between the dress and the shoes, her legs in particular, were...

Anyway, Jim claimed her next. His dancing was less polished than Charlie's. He looked a little awkward dancing with his boss, but then Jim looked a little awkward most of the time. The smiles on both of their faces revealed their genuine fondness for each other. Even if Will was pretty sure Jim stepped on Mac's toes at least once, Mac had just laughed it off.

After Jim, Neal claimed his turn, followed by Don, and Joey and Gary... Mac was clearly in her element. Will realized he was smiling. She'd wanted to grow these people, and she certainly had. They all adored her.

That was when the music temporarily switched to something faster (and more modern). The dance floor emptied; even Mac obviously decided to sit the next dance out.

And that was when the trouble started.

Okay, it wasn't so much trouble, as Mackenzie's "I am going to interfere in the lives of grown adults" light flicked on. Will had gotten quite familiar with that light over the years. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but something shifted in her face; her expression changed from happy and interested to meddling.

Will followed her gaze to see who her intended targets were.

He nearly groaned.

Jim, Don, Maggie and Sloan were standing in a group having what looked to be a somewhat awkward conversation. Sampat and Tess were there as well, but Will ignored them; they were obviously superfluous to whatever Mac was scheming.

Oh Christ. Her facial expression had moved past meddling and into scheming. Red alert. Red alert.

Something needed to be done before Mac dropped some sort of (well-intentioned) awkwardness bomb.

Will downed the last of his scotch, and setting the glass on a nearby table, headed across the room to intercept her.

(He ignored Charlie's smirk on his way past. Old man didn't know what he was talking about anyway.)

He got there just in time.

Mac had just reached the group, her "Hi guys!" slightly too enthusiastically high-pitched to be natural.

Will saw by Sloan's raised eyebrows that she knew it too. She immediately swung her gaze to Will, silently begging him to do something. (Maggie was oblivious, Jim seemed resigned to his fate, and Don was just looking at Mac like she was crazy.)

"So, how's everyone enjoying the party?" Will asked in a tone that actually did sound casual.

It wasn't the most brilliant of openings, but it did successfully distract Mac. She spun to face him. "Well, look who decided to step away from the wall and actually talk to people."

"I've been talking to people," Will said calmly. He had. He'd made small talk with any number of people on their way by him. "And technically I'm still standing close to a wall; it's just a different one."

Mac scowled at him. "It's a party Will, a time to come together and celebrate."

"Doesn't that mean that now that I've actually come to do just that, you probably shouldn't yell at me?" Will asked innocently.

"Sounds reasonable to me," Sloan jumped in, happy to keep any conversation going that wasn't whatever Mac had intended to say when she walked over.

"Fine," Mac conceded. "And actually, standing next to the wall might be safest for you. Wouldn't want another drink tossed in your face."

There was a round of snickers from the group.

Will decided to rise above them. "And here I was coming over because I thought I'd better try and claim a dance with my EP before her dance card filled up," Will said, placing a hand lightly on the small of Mac's back.

Mac looked up at him, surprised. (Sloan looked grateful)

"I suppose I could find the time to dance with you," Mac said with a slow smile. "Although not to this," she added, referring to the still quite fast pop song currently playing on the speakers.

"No," Will agreed immediately. "Not to this. But surely it's got to come to an end soon?"

"Hate to break it to you," Neil told him. "But you've got at least another minute and a half."

"How can you tell?" Will asked.

"I know the song?" Neil replied slowly.

"No, I mean what's playing now sounds exactly the same as the other two and a half minutes that have already played," Will explained. "How could you possibly differentiate this from what came before to know what point we're at?"

"Well, it helps that we've already listened to the earlier two and a half minutes," Maggie pointed out.

Will glared at her.

"She has a good point," Mac pointed out as Jim chuckled.

Will shifted the target of his glare.

His EP was unfazed. "We'll hope for something a little less recent next, Billy," Mac teased with a pat on his arm.

Luckily it appeared that the song was winding down. Apparently realizing that his audience wasn't into modern pop, the DJ switched back to something a little slower. Something that Will was pretty sure he could actually dance to.

So he held out his hand gravely to the woman next to him. "May I have the next dance Miss McHale?"

Mac smiled and took it. "Oh I suppose you may, Mr. McAvoy."

Will smirked. "Then we'll leave you young people to your own devices."

"With your loud music and your crazy clothes," Mac teased.

"Oh come on," Will laughed, spinning her onto the dance floor.

Mac slid into his arms, and for a moment, Will had a flash of painful familiarity. The fact that she immediately stiffened told him she had too.

Well, in for a penny...

Will forced himself to relax as he led her slowly out into the dance floor. He slowly felt Mac relax, as she seemed to realize that he wasn't about to stomp off or snap at her.

They both decided to simply ignore the awkwardness between them.

"So are you enjoying the party?" Will asked her.

"I am," Mac told here. "It's nice to see people out of the office."

"Yeah, because I don't see Reese Lansing nearly enough," Will grumbled.

"Oh please," Mac replied. "You barely talked to Reese for five minutes. You talked to Leona longer."

"Leona's not so bad," Will replied.

"Now that she leaves us alone," Mac muttered.

"Hey, that's better than a lot of cable news network owners would do," Will told her. "I know being realistic isn't always your strong suit..."

"I can be realistic," Mac objected. "I just also insist that the world can be better when it is."

"Well, in this case I'd advise you to take the victory you have, and hope nothing changes," Will told her, guiding her slightly to the left, when it looked like she was about to careen off in the other direction.

"Oh fine," Mac muttered. Then she brightened. "What about you?"

Will was momentarily confused. "What about me, what?"

"Are you enjoying the party?" Mac clarified.

"Absolutely," Will said dryly. "There's nothing I like more than a Christmas party in mid-December."

"It's only a few weeks early Will, and anyway, people tend to have other plans on Christmas Day itself, shockingly," Mac replied, her voice just as dry.

Will didn't bother pointing out that he didn't really have plans. He did not want to get into an awkward conversation about holiday plans with Mackenzie. Too many traps of old memories to fall into.

"But seriously, have you been enjoying yourself?" Mac pressed. "You really have been lurking by the wall an awful lot."

"I'm not lurking now," Will reminded her, stepping slightly to the right to compensate for the fact that all of a sudden she seemed to want to turn that direction.

Mac grinned, moving with him without noticing the change. "I suppose not."

"And anyway," Will continued. "It hasn't been that lonely. People kept dropping by."

"Yeah, I saw you and Sloan earlier," Mac murmured, shifting closer. She'd almost forgotten how good a dancer Will was, how easy he was to dance with. She'd almost forgotten how much she liked being in his arms. "Who were the two of you mocking?"

"What makes you think we were mocking anyone?" Will asked.

"The expressions on both of your faces," Mac replied.

Will decided he was enjoying the conversation and so decided to concede the point. "The new daytime anchor," he told her. "Sloan seemed to find the woman's dress and hairstyle some sort of personal affront."

"And you?" Mac asked.

"While I wouldn't describe the pea green potato sack the woman seems to be wearing as attractive, I mostly find that overly perky voice of hers to be the real issue," Will explained.

"She's on a breakfast show," Mac defended (though she chuckled when she said it). "She's supposed to sound like that. Although, agreed. That dress is something else."

"It is," Will agreed. "Your dress is much better by the way. You look beautiful."

Mac looked up at him, pleased. "Thank you. You look nice too."

He smiled and spun her. Just for fun.

"Oh darn it!" Mac exclaimed, as she came back.

"Something wrong?" Will asked, worried. "Did I spin too far?"

"No," Mac assured him. "You're fine. It was just, I meant to... well. Never mind."

"What?" Will asked, easily avoiding her foot, before his got stepped on.

"Doesn't matter..." Mac muttered.

"Come on, Mackenzie," Will asked again, having a pretty good idea where this was going.

"I was going to try and get Don to ask Sloan to dance; you reminded me when you mentioned her earlier," Mac told him.

"Uh huh," Will murmured.

"And that way, Jim could dance with Maggie without it being awkward!" Mac added excitedly, gleefully explaining the full extent of her plan of potential destruction.

"Don and Maggie broke up almost six months ago," Will reminded her.

"Yes, but Don is still afraid to ask Sloan out on a date, and Jim is even more terrified to make a move on Maggie," Mac explained. "Idiots."

"Probably because they don't want work to become unbelievably awkward," Will pointed out sensibly. He couldn't say he blamed them for that.

"They need to get over that!" Mac insisted.

"Because you know best?" Will wondered.

"I do know best!" she insisted stubbornly. "Don't they want to be happy? Why won't they just listen to me?"

"Yes, I'm sure Sloan is absolutely devastated that you didn't get the chance to shoehorn her into an incredibly awkward dance with someone she has to see every day," Will said sarcastically.

"She might be!" Mac replied. "If you hadn't walked over and asked me to dance..."

She paused, an idea growing in her brain. Will did seem to know an awful lot about his. She glanced up suspiciously.

Will wisely didn't say anything.

But it didn't matter, because Mackenzie McHale knew him far, far too well.

"Will?" she asked after a moment.

He tried very hard to keep his expression completely neutral. "Yes Mackenzie?"

"What made you come over and ask me to dance?"

"I told you; I wanted to dance with the best EP in the business," Will told her. Okay, he might not have used those exact words, but close enough.

But Mac was in no mood to be placated by flattery. "No, I mean what made you come over at that exact moment?"

"It was a moment when you actually weren't dancing with someone else?" Will suggested.

His comment succeeded in (temporarily) distracting her. "You were watching me dance?" she asked, pleased.

Will winced. That made him sound rather pathetic. "I was standing by the wall. You crossed into my field of vision."

Mac scowled. "Will!"

"What?"

"You deliberately asked me to dance to... to..." Mac trailed off, sputtering.

Will figured they may as well finish the conversation now. If they didn't she'd just pester him about it later anyway. "To what?"

Mac deflated somewhat, and not just because he'd ruined her scheme. "To stop me from interfering in the lives of our staff?"

"Ah, so you admit to intending to interfere!" Will said jubilantly.

"Of course I admit it," Mac replied. "Someone needs to." And it was a job she was more than happy to take on herself.

Will shook his head. "Just let it be, Mackenzie! It's Christmas!"

"I thought we were two weeks early!" Mac shot back.

Will rolled his eyes. "Fine, it's Christmas-ish. If it's going to happen tonight, whatever it is you want to happen..."

"You know what I want to happen!" Mac interrupted. "I want Jim to finally man up and actually ask Maggie out on a date and then Don will be able to stop feeling guilty (which he shouldn't anyway), and finally figure things out with Sloan, who is way better for him than Maggie was by the way."

"If it's going to happen tonight," Will repeated, ignoring her interruption. "Then it will. If you try and push, you'll probably only make things worse, or make sure that it doesn't happen. You'll definitely annoy half of your staff."

"That's the beauty of being the boss; there's nothing they can do about it," Mac said airily.

"Other than file some kind of harassment charge," Will muttered.

Mac shook her head. "They'd never do that. They love me."

"That they do," Will agreed, softly. "Which is exactly why you shouldn't make them question that, and let them run their own lives, at least for one night."

"Fine..." Mac sighed.

Will took note of her disappointed expression and had to suppress his own sigh. "If it makes you feel any better, you might not even be needed. I heard rumours that there's mistletoe hanging somewhere in the room."

Mac's eyes lit up. "Oh Billy! That's perfect. Do you know where?"

"Have you been listening to a word I've said?" Will demanded.

"Of course I was listening," Mac replied. "I've just decided to ignore it."

"Mackenzie..."

"I just want them to be happy," she said softly.

And with that he conceded, at least in his own mind. Her big heart always got him, and he'd always been a sucker for that tone of voice (though he'd learned to hold out against it at least a little bit now). She may go about these things in the most inappropriate way possible, but her complete selflessness somehow made it okay. She so obviously just wanted to make people's lives better, even if it wasn't realistic. "I know, and they are. Just give it a bit more time."

"How much?" Mac demanded.

Will sighed. He hadn't exactly thought out the complete logistics of the thing. "I don't know?"

"I just want to help," Mac explained.

"I know."

She sighed.

"Come on, couldn't you try and look a little cheerful?" Will asked her. "Someone's going to think that I've dragged you out onto the dance floor against your will."

"Well, at the very least it was under false pretences." Mac really tried not to be hurt by that. She'd actually thought that Will had just walked across the room because he'd wanted to dance with her. It was foolish, she knew, given their history. But they were still friends, weren't they? At the very least they were close colleagues. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that Will might have just wanted to dance with her. When in fact, he'd really been saving their colleagues from her. He'd been just been taking one for the team, throwing himself under a bus, nobly putting himself in the line of fire. Yeah, turns out she was doing a terrible job of not being hurt.

Will sighed in exasperation, and pulled her closer. "It wasn't the only reason I wanted to dance with you, Mackenzie."

"Wasn't it?" she grumbled, doubly annoyed now, both for having her (completely selfless!) matchmaking skills insulted, and for finding out that the man who'd asked her to dance had just done it to get her out of the way, away from the people she was apparently bothering. Well, whatever. She was their boss. She could...

"Of course not," Will told her. "I've always liked dancing with you." He realized his mistake a second too late. That was not the sort of thing they said anymore.

Mac paused. "Haven't done it in a while," she muttered.

"No," Will said shortly.

Mac recognized that tone, and she deflated further. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize!" Will ordered, more harshly than he'd meant to.

That confused her. "What?"

"Not tonight, just... Not tonight, okay?" Will said in exasperation, as he avoided her best attempt to (inadvertently) kick him in the shin. He didn't want this. He wanted… He wanted it like it had been before, before he'd somehow managed to accidentally hurt her feelings. Yet again. "It's... It's two weeks before Christmas."

"Oh, that hallowed day," Mac said sarcastically.

Will almost chuckled. "Exactly."

To his relief, instead of continuing the argument, Mac lapsed into silence.

But for some reason, Will wasn't quite okay with how their conversation had ended. Something was eating at him, and it wouldn't quite let him go. Something was unfinished, and just, not right.

He leaned back slightly to look at her face. "You look really beautiful tonight, Mackenzie."

The shock was obvious in her body language, but she kept dancing. "You said that already."

"I know," Will admitted. "I wanted to say it again."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Because you seem to think I don't want to dance with you," Will explained, deciding to tell her the truth.

"I never said that," Mac said slowly. She hadn't. She'd thought it, but she hadn't said it. And anyway, who could blame her?

"May as well have," Will grumbled.

"Oh, and what, the whole stopping me from interfering in staffer's love lives was just a convenient excuse then?" Mac asked scathingly.

Will decided he didn't want to answer that question. He glanced away.

And the truth hit Mac like a thunderbolt. It _had_ been a convenient excuse. He _had_ wanted to dance with her. He'd just needed a little push. She felt the warmth start in deep in her stomach and travel outwards. She bit her lip to hide her smile.

She loved office Christmas parties.

Of course, now the stupid song was almost over, and now she was the one who was searching for a convenient excuse to prolong things. Just for a little bit. Just one more song. She understood that he wasn't hers. She understood that she didn't deserve him anymore. She understood that she'd fucked it all up. But it was Christmas(ish); surely she deserved a measly second song?

She was a brilliant producer! She could come up with a reason for the two of them to stay out here. That was when it hit her.

Maybe she didn't need to come up with a reason. After all, why mess with a system that worked?

"Will?" she said tentatively, not quite sure if she dared.

His eyes narrowed. That was her _scheming_voice again. "Yes?" he asked warily.

Mac decided that she did dare. And she didn't care who was watching or what they thought. Even the gossip magazines couldn't make anything out of a mere _two_dances, could they? "I still want to interfere," she said, tilting her head and sending him her sweetest smile.

Will sighed. "Mac..."

Mac's smile grew. "In fact, as soon as this dance is _over_, I might do it. I might walk right over there and get involved, as much as I possibly can."

"Mac..." Will said again in exasperation. He supposed this was her idea of punishment. He'd get his dance, but she'd do whatever she'd always intended to anyway.

"Well, it's not like I'll be doing anything else," Mac explained innocently, tightening her hand on his shoulder.

Will paused. He knew that tone of voice as well. That tone of voice meant something other than what she was saying. He considered her words carefully, an _interesting _possibility striking him. It took him less than a split second to make a decision of his own. "I guess I'll just have to keep distracting you then."

He knew he'd guessed correctly when he felt Mac relax back against him. "I guess you will." She tried (and failed) not to sound too pleased.

"In the interests of attempting to maintain a peaceful workplace, of course." he told her. He told _himself_that he needed to keep a close eye on her, otherwise she'd be off searching for the rumoured mistletoe, and scheming and plotting and... Really keeping her dancing was much safer for everyone concerned.

Even Mac agreed. "Right."

He leaned forward to whisper close to her ear, enjoying her hair on his face. "Does this mean your dance card's free for the next one as well, Ms. McHale?"

"Might be," Mackenzie murmured as the song came to an end. "I'd have to check."

"Screw that." Will replied, relieved when the next song sounded like it was going to be something that could actually be danced do. "I'm going to have to insist on claiming it either way."

Mac laughed and shifted slightly closer, even daring to risk leaning her head slightly against his chin. "I guess I can let it slide, _this time._"

"That's very generous of you," Will murmured, as he drew her closer to him. The proximity would make it easier to prevent her from accidentally steering them off-course.

"Thank you," Mac replied, not entirely sure what she was thanking him for.

"The things I do for my staff," Will added, tightening his grip.

"Yes, you're very selfless, Billy," Mac assured him softly, dropping her head against his.

"Yeah, real selfless," he said absently, letting himself sway with her, deciding to just move with her this time when she suddenly shifted slightly to the right.

He really had missed dancing with her.

xxx

TBC


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: And, these chapters are really starting to get absurdly long now, even for me. I am just saying.

Chapter 2

xxx

"Did you get her anything for Christmas?" Jack asked.

Will was surprised by the question. "What?"

"Mackenzie, did you buy her anything for Christmas?" Dr. Habib clarified.

Will stared at his psychiatrist. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked finally.

"You were describing a Christmas party," Habib reminded him. "I was just wondering if you got Mackenzie anything for Christmas."

Will frowned. "What does my potential Christmas gift for Mac have to do with the story I just told you?"

Dr. Habib smiled slightly. "The story about the Christmas party?"

"Yes!"

"Well, in my mind the link was Christmas," Dr. Habib explained slowly.

Will scowled. "I'm just saying, it's not much of a follow-up."

"I'm not reporting a story;" Habib reminded him. "I _am_ asking you questions about your relationship with Mackenzie."

"Seemingly random questions," Will replied stubbornly. He wasn't sure why, but he found himself constantly feeling the urge to resist answering Habib's questions, no matter how simple, about his personal life.

"I have been trained in this you know," Dr. Habib said patiently, not insulted in the slightest. He was well used to waiting for his answers. "Went to med school and everything."

"So you claim. How do I know these diplomas on the walls aren't fakes?" Will asked.

"You can call the school to verify my credentials if you like. In the meantime, you can answer my question. Did you get Mackenzie anything for Christmas?" Dr. Habib asked again, leaning forward slightly to emphasize the point.

Will exhaled loudly. "Of course I got her something for Christmas. I didn't mention it when I was telling the story because I didn't give her gift to her at the party, since, as I believe I've already mentioned, the party was _two weeks_ before actual Christmas, the day most people exchange gifts. And y'know, I was pretty sure I'd see her in between, given that we work together on a daily basis."

"Okay," Dr. Habib said, knowing well the power of a non-answer in getting people to open up, particularly if they were naturally argumentative.

Will didn't disappoint. "What? Why wouldn't I get her something for Christmas? Why would you even ask that question? She's my executive producer! I work more closely with her than anyone else on the planet."

"You're closer to her than anyone else on the planet," Habib corrected.

Will paused. "Alright, yes. Mackenzie is probably my closest friend."

Dr. Habib decided to let the "probably" slide in the interests of actually getting an answer to his question sometime this century. "Yes she is."

Will sat back in his chair, doing his best to relax. "So I bought her a Christmas present. It's not a big deal."

"I didn't say it was," Jack agreed softly.

"Fine," Will grumbled, still not sure why he felt like he was being interrogated. He was allowed to get his friends Christmas presents if he wanted to. That was all there was to it.

Dr. Habib smiled slightly, careful to keep his expression non-threatening. For some reason Will was feeling the need to protect the memory of his gift exchange with Mackenzie, so obiously it was somehow significant to him. Jack wasn't going to pry if Will really wasn't ready to talk about it, but articulating why he felt the need to protect his relationship with Mackenzie so fiercely might go a long way to helping Will reconcile his past with his present feelings. "Like you said, it's a perfectly normal thing to do," Jack said.

"So why are we still talking about it? Will wondered, still not sure why he was so annoyed.

"Because I thought I'd ask," Dr. Habib replied. "What was it?"

"Hmm?" WIll hummed.

"What was your Christmas gift for Mackenzie," his psychiatrist asked again.

"I got her tickets to Carnegie Hall. The Vienna Philharmonic's gonna be there in a little over a month, and I just figured..." Will trailed off. He'd figured she'd like that.

"She likes music?" Dr. Habib checked.

"No, she hates it," Will said sarcastically. "That's why it was such a thoughtful gift."

"Will..."

Will took a deep breath and tried again, reminding himself that he was coming here by choice. "Yes, she likes music. Her Dad's a big classical music fan; he passed that love along to his daughter."

Dr. Habib smiled. "So it _was_ a thoughtful gift."

"Whatever," Will grumbled. He'd never been any good at taking compliments when they were about anything other than work.

Dr. Habib decided to keep the conversation going for the time being. "And what did she get you?"

Now it was Will's turn to smile slightly as he took a trip down memory lane. "Well that's the funny part."

"Please tell me she didn't get you tickets to the same show," Habib said dryly. That would really be too absurd, even for the two of them.

"No," Will said with a chuckle. "This isn't some Nora Ephron movie. But Mac managed found some obscure, off-Broadway theatre that's putting on Man of La Mancha later this year, and she got me a pair of tickets."

"Do the two of you go out to the theatre much, then?" Dr. Habib asked.

Will looked away. "We used to."

Jack had figured as much. The gifts were rather revealing. He might have to talk to Will about subconscious desires later. Not right now though. The anchor was finally relaxed. "I meant separately."

Will winced, realizing his mistake. "I used to," he said. "I still go sometimes. But Mac was in the Middle East for three years, so I don't imagine catching the latest big thing on Broadway's really been high on her list of priorities. Course, she might have started going since she got back to New York."

"You haven't asked her?" Habib wondered. They did work rather closely together after all.

"No," Will said quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because I haven't," Will replied. Because if she _had_ been going to the theatre, then it would have followed that she was probably going _with_ someone, possibly someone tall, male and handsome. And Will hadn't wanted to hear about that. So he hadn't asked. It was easier.

Dr. Habib kept the conversation going. "Does she not like the theatre?"

"She loves the theatre," Will assured the other man. Now he was on firmer ground. Mac may mock musicals far more than they deserved (or maybe she was just mocking him), but she loved the theatre. Take her to a live show and she just lit up. It was… nice.

"But you don't think she's been going since she got back," Dr. Habib asked.

Will shook his head. "No. I mean, I don't _know_ that for sure, but I don't think she has."

Jack frowned. "Why don't you..."

"Because she hasn't been talking about it!" Will said, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "She _always_ used to talk about it when she went. You couldn't get her to shut up about it. Sometimes it lasted for days after she saw a show. And since she got back to New York, I haven't heard anything. Not a word. She and Sloan went to something at the Lincoln Centre one weekend, a selection of piano concertos. She talked about that for a few days... So I guess I thought she'd like to go again." He'd _known_ she'd like to go again.

"Did she like the gift?" Dr. Habib asked.

"Yeah," Will said softly.

Dr. Habib kept his voice expressionless. "Well that's good."

"She liked the gift," Will repeated.

"I believe you," Dr. Habib assured the other man.

"She really liked the gift." Will insisted, a little more loudly. She had. Mac's breath had caught in her throat when she realized the envelope he'd handed her contained more than a simple card. And then she'd looked up at him with shining eyes. Hell, he'd even gotten a spontaneous hug out of the damn thing. Will wasn't going to have his present mocked.

"I still believe you," Jack assured him quietly.

"Good," Will grumbled, leaning back in his chair. It _had _ been a good gift. It'd been nice. _He'd_ been nice.

Habib could only agree. "Good."

"Yeah." Will lapsed into silence, mulling something over in his brain.

Jack waited a few seconds. He knew that expression well. "So what's the problem?"

Will glanced away. "I want to ask her to Don Quixote," he admitted in a whoosh.

Dr. Habib smiled. The picture was starting to come together now. He'd_ known_ a dance wasn't all there was to this. "So? why don't you?

"It's complicated," Will insisted.

Well, that was a non-answer if Jack had ever heard one. Almost everything could be described as complicated. "Is it? Or are you just making it that way?"

"I don't want her to feel like she has to ask me to her thing," Will explained slowly. "Like it's a trade."

"But you do want her to ask you," Jack couldn't help pointing out.

"No!" Will said a little too loudly.

"Will..."

"Okay, I wouldn't mind if she did, but..." Will trailed off. He was absolutely not opposed to going to Carnegie Hall with Mackenzie, only an idiot would be. But that made the gift seem rather self-serving somehow. And also, he wanted her to do what she wanted to do with the gift. Really, he'd just wanted to do something for her that she'd like. No strings attached. He tried to explain that to his psychiatrist (without using any of those words, obviously). "She liked going out with Sloan too;" he said slowly. "I know she did. Sloan likes classical music too. And besides, Sloan told me once that Mac confided that she has no friends in New York." Mac would like going to the symphony with Sloan. Both women would. And that was really the point of the gift, in the end. He didn't _need_ to go with her.

Dr. Habib considered the man sitting across from him. He wondered if Will realized the extent of his concern for Mackenzie McHale. It was probably one of the reasons he was suddenly so gung ho to try and resolve things. Still, Jack knew baby steps were necessary. "Wouldn't asking her to Don Quixote be a good gesture of friendship then?" he suggested.

Will grunted, unsure whether the sound meant yes or no.

"Maybe she doesn't think you want her to ask you," Jack pointed out. It was entirely possible. Reading between the lines over the past year or so, it had become obvious that Mackenzie McHale was nearly as screwed up over the way things had ended between them as Will was himself. Her feelings had simply manifested themselves as guilt. Habib had no trouble believing Mackenzie's default position was to assume that Will didn't want to spend a lot of extra time with her.

"Maybe," Will grudgingly admitted. It probably wouldn't have crossed Mac's mind that he might want to accompany her to the symphony, and he couldn't blame her for it. It was mostly his own damn fault anyway.

"What did you say when you gave her the tickets?" Dr. Habib asked curiously.

Will paused. He'd called Mac into his office under the pretext of needing to talk to her about the next night's show. Then when she'd been in mid-spiel about a Florida Congressman's latest debacle, he'd pulled the envelope from his drawer, stuck a bow on top and handed it to her. The shock on her face had been worth the pretext. As had her subsequent annoyance that he hadn't warned her, because she'd left his present in her office and had to go get it. But he didn't really want to tell Habib any of that. That was _his._ "I don't remember exactly."

"_Will._"

"I don't!" He didn't remember exactly. He remembered her smile though. And her annoyance, which had been fun too. Particularly because it hadn't lasted, and soon she'd been smiling again."

"Why can't you ask her to Don Quixote?" Habib asked again. "Tell her you don't expect her to take you to the music thing if you want to, but I think you should ask her."

"I can ask her; I just think it'll be awkward," Will said weakly.

"Why? She's clearly who you want to go with," his psychiatrist pointed out bluntly. Will McAvoy had many good qualities, but anyone who also knew him well knew that there were times when he needed a good kick in the ass.

"Not because of _that_." Will exclaimed. Of course Mac was the one he wanted to go with. His desire to go with her wasn't the problem at all. Who wouldn't want to go to the theatre with Mac? Maybe they could get dinner first, and...

"Because of what then?" Habib asked.

"Never mind," Will said quickly. "I want to go with Mac because it won't be the same with anyone else. She's the one who's always talking about Don Quixote."

"What?"

"It's the show," Will explained. "Newsnight whatever-we're-at point O. And she's the one who started it. Apparently she's Don Quixote, although Charlie thinks it's him, and she's Dulcinea. I think I'm Sancho... It's confusing."

"Who do you think she is?" Habib asked curiously, sure that Will had his own opinions on the subject.

"Doesn't matter," Will replied.

Dr. Habib let it slide for the time being. "Okay."

"What matters is, she's the one who always talks about Don Quixote," Will emphasized. That really was the key issue. Don Quixote was _their_ thing. Who else would he take to _their_ musical? "She even started getting me doing it."

"And in your version of the metaphor, were you Don Quixote?" Habib asked with a laugh.

Will sighed. He supposed he should have expected that. "Maybe."

"Which is why you particularly want to go with her," Habib concluded.

"Yes," Will admitted.

"Did you ever wonder if that was her intention?" Dr. Habib asked.

"No. I _don't_ think that was..." Will paused. That possibility hadn't even occurred to him, that Mac had given him the tickets _because_ she'd wanted him to ask her. He hadn't... well... "Wait, do you think it was?"

"I think it's a possibility," Habib replied.

"Oh." Will wasn't quite sure what to say to that.

"You look pleased," Habib observed. More than pleased actually, Will actually looked slightly stunned.

Will's first instinct was to deny it. "No, I..."

"So you're not pleased?" Habib double-checked.

Will realized there was no way out. "No, I am."

"Okay then."

"Shut up."

"That'll make for a productive session," Dr. Habib said dryly.

"Look, it's not like I have to ask her tomorrow anyway," Will pointed out, trying to direct the conversation away from whether or not he would ask Mackenzie to the theatre. "The play's not for a couple of months."

"So you have time to lose your nerve." Habib observed.

"Hey!"

Habib didn't back down. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"She says no," Will says bluntly.

Habib leaned back in his chair and examined the man across from him. He'd known this was going to come up. "Do you think she will?"

"How should I know?" Will asked in irritation. He hoped not, but... But what if she'd already asked someone else, like a date? Or worse, just didn't want to go with him?

"You're worried she'll reject you?" Habib suggested gently.

"Of course I'm worried she'll reject me!" Will snapped.

Habib ignored the anger, keeping his voice calm and objective. "She didn't reject you at the Christmas party."

"When?" Will asked in confusion.

"When you asked her to dance," Habib explained.

Will considered that. "I suppose not. But that was just a dance."

"This would just be a play."

"Musical," Will corrected automatically.

Habib really didn't care about the details. "Whatever."

"I guess," Will said slowly.

"Apart from five years ago..." Habib started to say.

"I thought that wasn't a rejection," Will interrupted quickly. He didn't want to get into what happened five years ago.

"It wasn't a rejection," Habib agreed. "But it contributed to making you more sensitive to rejection, particularly from Mackenzie."

"Great," Will muttered.

"That can't have been new information to you," Habib replied with a hint of a smile.

Will didn't answer.

Habib decided to return to the topic at hand. "Let's start again. Apart from five years ago, has Mac every rejected you?"

Will considered the question. There had been the time he'd left her a phone message pouring his heart out, and she'd never called back. Of course, then it turned out that she'd never gotten the message, so that hadn't been a rejection either. Though it had certainly felt like it at the time. Maybe it was time to... Oh, he didn't know. After all, if he didn't ask, it would be much harder for her to shatter his heart all over again. He wasn't sure he could face that. Still, she'd never actually rejected him... Not directly.

"I guess not," he said eventually.

Habib gave a tiny mental cheer. They were finally getting somewhere. One baby step at a time. "And when it comes down to it, you want to ask her."

"Yes," Will conceded.

"Is there anyone else you even _want_ to go with?" Habib wondered.

"No," Will admitted. "Well, I suppose Charlie wouldn't be so bad, in a pinch." Although, the problem with Charlie was that he'd probably spend the entire performance asking Will why he hadn't asked Mackenzie. And Will knew he'd be wondering the exact same thing.

"Okay, what was the last thing you asked Mac?" Habib asked.

The question jolted Will out of his thoughts. "What?"

"What was the last thing you asked her?" Habib repeated.

"I asked her last night to bring a story up from the D-block, so we could lead with it," Will answered truthfully (and very literally).

"Why?" Habib wondered.

"I thought it was a better story to open the show with." Will explained.

"What happened." his psychiatrist asked.

Will shrugged. "She disagreed and ran the show the way we'd planned earlier." It was fairly common for the two of them to argue over the order of stories in the broadcast. Sometimes he won the arguments, sometimes she did. Neither of them got too upset about it, or held grudges (well, not longer than 48 hours at least). It was just how they worked.

"That's not a rejection," Habib said.

Will narrowed his eyes. Of course it wasn't. It was just work. "No."

"That's a disagreement at work," Habib explained.

Will still wasn't sure what his psychiatrist was getting at. This was what he got for seeking medical treatment from a fifteen year old. "I know."

"Have you asked her anything slightly more personal recently?" Habib asked, searching for a better example. "A favour, or something outside of work hours?"

"I work long hours," Will reminded the man.

"Will..."

"And sometimes she works longer hours," the anchor added glibly.

Habib sighed, finally starting to lose his patience. "Will, you can fuck around all you want in your sessions, but I'm not the one paying for them."

Will stared at the man, weighing his options. In the end, he reminded himself that he really _did _want to figure this mess out. "I asked her to dinner a few weeks ago," he admitted eventually.

For the first time in a while, Jack was shocked by an answer. _"What?"_

"I asked her to dinner," Will repeated, amused at the expression on the other man's face.

"I heard you," Habib assured him. "I meant..."

"Just casually, after the show," Will explained.

"And after you danced together after the Christmas party?" Habib guessed. It seemed that there was far more to this story than even he'd suspected.

"Yes, a few weeks after," Will admitted. "After Christmas itself." Between their dance, and Mac's expression when he'd given her her Christmas present, well, it had just seemed like a good idea at the time.

"And were you ever planning on mentioning that?" Dr. Habib asked.

"Eventually," Will admitted. He usually told Jack things in the end; he just preferred to do them in his own time.

"So what happened?" Habib asked; he had to admit he was curious.

"She said yes," Will told him.

"I assumed," Habib said dryly. If Mackenzie MaHale had rejected Will's dinner invitation, well, the demeanour of the man sitting across from him would have been _very_ different. And asking her to a musical in a few months wouldn't have even been an option on the table. "She didn't reject you?"

"No," Will admitted. Then he frowned. She hadn't. She'd... Oh. _Oh._

Habib smiled. Sometimes Will had an absolutely terrible poker face when he wasn't paying attention. "Can you think of a specific time when she rejected you since she's returned?"

"There was her stupid boyfriend," Will grumbled before he could help himself.

But Habib shook his head. "If anything, that was in response to you rejecting her. You weren't actually asking her for anything. You were too busy showing her that you didn't need her."

Will looked away. He wasn't particularly proud of what he'd done for those few weeks. He'd wanted to hurt her a little, and maybe that was understandable, but still, it hadn't exactly been kind. "So we really have to talk about that?"

"No," Habib told him. "I was just wondering if, after the past few years, and several recently accepted dinner invitations, you really think Mackenzie's going to start rejecting you now?"

"Do people ever go into things thinking they're going to be rejected?" Will countered quickly, turning back to glare at his psychiatrist.

"All the time," Habib told him. Some people did. Some people secretly wanted the punishment, others lived in hope. And then there were people like Will, who were almost too wounded to try. Almost.

"Yeah, I guess," Will muttered.

"Will, I think you should ask her," Habib said quietly. It could be a breakthrough moment for him. And this limbo couldn't last forever. If either of them wanted to have a functional relationship, with anyone, they'd have to figure out the thing between them, or get out of each other's lives. This was a chance for Will to explore the parameters of their relationship a little, and at relatively low risk.

"And if she says no?" Will wondered.

"What if she says yes?" Habib asked instead.

Will paused, considering the possibility. Yeah, that would be a good day.

"You said this started at the Christmas party, with the dance?" Habib reminded his patient.

"I liked dancing with her. It was nice," Will said absently, still lost in thought, in possibility.

"You enjoyed her company, and you want that to continue." Habib summarized. "It's normal."

Will glared at his doctor. "I know."

If anything, Will's glare made Habib more cheerful. "Healthy even."

"I'm a model of mental health," Will said sarcastically.

"So you decided to ask her out to dinner?" Habib asked, turning the conversation back to the subject. He wanted to get to the bottom of this.

"I asked her if she wanted to get some dinner one night when we were the only two people left in the office after work. It wasn't a date," Will said quickly.

"Of course not." Habib agreed easily.

But Will continued to justify himself. "It was completely circumstantial, due to a very specific confluence of events."

"What, the two of you working late?" Habib asked incredulously. "Yeah, I'll bet that almost _never _happens."

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" Will grumbled. "It was a fluke!"

Habib raised an eyebrow.

Will sighed and conceded. "Alright fine, I may have been thinking about it a little bit beforehand."

xxx

Newsnight was done for the day, but Mackenzie McHale was still in her office, typing away on her computer. It was getting late, but she was determined to finish this before she went home for the night. Then she wouldn't have to worry about it tomorrow.

She was just finishing up, when she heard a voice in her doorway.

"What're you still doing here?" Will asked, walking into her office. "It's late. Show's over."

"I'm just finishing the new intern's performance evaluation," Mac explained.

"The one who nearly shredded my script ten minutes before the show his first week on the job?" Will asked.

"That was an accident," Mac said automatically. "But yes. You'll need to sign off on it tomorrow."

"Sure," Will agreed. "Just as long as I don't accidentally drop it in the shredder on my way past."

"In which case I'll just print off another copy since, like your script was, it's saved on my computer," Mac told him sweetly. "And it wouldn't hurt if you added a couple of comments of your own, while you're at it."

"Absolutely," Will said readily. "What was his name again?"

"Will..." Mac tried to look admonishing, but the corners of her lips kept trying to quirk up into a smile.

Will smiled back. "I'm kidding."

Mac decided a change of subject was in order. "What about you? Why are you here so late?"

"Charlie wanted to talk to me about maybe speaking at some colleges again, or something similar. It's been a few years since the last time," Will told her. Although it was inevitable that last time would be dredged up again if he did.

"Just keep yourself vertigo-medicine free and I'm sure you'll be fine," was Mac's very sympathetic advice.

"Just stay out of the audience with your signs," Will shot back.

"First of all, you needed those signs to get you up off your ass," Mac argued. And then when it looked like Will was going to interrupt, added more loudly. "And anyway, seeing me in the audience this time would hardly be a shock."

No, he supposed it wouldn't. He'd gotten used to seeing her face again. He smiled. "I suppose."

Mac wasn't sure what had caused the sudden change in his mood, but she couldn't say she was upset to see the man standing on the other side of her desk smiling (at her). "Still, you should go home. It's late."

"Show ended less than an hour ago," Will pointed out.

"And this place practically empties out after nine pm," Mac retorted quickly.

Will shrugged. "Except for the ten o'clock people."

"They don't count," Mac said glibly.

"I'll be sure to tell them you said that," Will replied.

Mac just smirked. "Seriously. Don't stay too late."

"I can take care of myself thank you," Will assured her. "I am a grown man."

"I know you can," Mac assured him. "Take care of yourself I mean." But just because he was capable of it didn't mean she couldn't show concern.

"Actually, now that my meeting with Charlie is done, I'm wrapping up for the day as well," Will told her. "Besides, you're still here."

"I'm on my way out," Mac told him, emphasizing the point by shutting down her computer and standing up from her desk. "So since that we're both apparently ready to go, I'll walk with you outside, if you'll give me a minute to grab my stuff."

"I actually need to grab a couple things from my office," Will explained, gesturing in the direction of his office with his hand.

"Ah. OKay then," Mac said, feeling a little awkward as she walked out from behind her desk to join him in the centre of her office. "Well, maybe I'll see you by the elevators then."

"Do you want to grab something?" Will asked suddenly

"At the elevators?" Mac asked in confusion.

Will almost chuckled in spite of himself. He supposed he'd deserved that. But honestly, it was ridiculous how much he felt like an awkward teenager. "No, I mean like food. Do you want to grab something? Together, I mean. I haven't eaten dinner yet, and I'm starving."

Mac stared at him for a minute, wondering if she'd just imagined the question, or if he'd really asked it. "Uhh... sure. Of course," she stuttered.

Will found himself gathering courage, not just from her quick acceptance, but from the expression in her eyes. "Just so we're clear. I'm not saying Wang Chews. I'm not saying let's meet up with the rest of the newsroom. Me and you."

Mac felt her heart skitter. That sounded like... "I..."

Will grew even bolder. His eyes never leaving hers (which were wide with either desperation or hope), he took a step closer. "Maybe that little Italian place a few streets over. It's open late, and I know you like a good carbonera."

"Will, what is this?" she half-whispered.

"Right now, it's a dinner invitation," Will told her truthfully. "We'll talk. I'd like to talk to you."

"Okay," Mac whispered.

"It's just dinner Mac," he assured her, watching her too closely to be entirely casual.

Mac swallowed, telling herself her sudden nerves were ridiculous. "I understand."

"For now," Will muttered under his breath.

_"What?"_ Mac asked quickly, not entirely sure she'd heard.

But Will was already turning away. "I'll get your coat."

She reached for him. "Will…"

But Will had gotten a hold of himself again. Slow. He desperately needed any change between them to be slow. That way maybe he wouldn't fuck everything up. "Come on crazy lady," he said with a smile as he held out her coat. "We'll go to dinner, we'll eat, we'll talk. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Lethal food poisoning?" Mac suggested.

Will shook his head indulgently. He really did like talking to her when they managed not to make each other upset. "This is a better restaurant than that. I think you're more likely to slip a little cyanide into my wine."

"Don't be silly, Billy," Mac said with a sudden smile. "Strychnine's my poison of choice."

"I'll keep that in mind," Will said dryly. "Just give me a minute. "I'll meet you at the elevator."

"Okay," Mac agreed with a beaming smile.

He couldn't help but smile back.

"Okay," He muttered under his breath as he walked back to his office.

xxx

"And how was dinner?" Habib asked him.

"Good," Will told him. "It was good. We spent half of it arguing about health insurance."

"Obama-care?" Habib guessed.

"Among other things," Will agreed.

"So you had a really good time," Habib surmised.

Will looked up, surprised.

Habib smiled. "You like to debate, Will. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out. And Mackenzie challenges you."

Will tried to suppress his smile. "I guess she does."

"It sounds like the two of you managed to get through dinner without jumping down each other's throats," Habib surmised.

"Yeah," Will agreed. "We managed somehow."

"So, how long has it been since you asked her to dinner?" Habib asked.

This time it was Will's turn to smirk. "Which time."

Habib paused. "How many times were there?"

"Three," Will told him.

"Three," Habib repeated slowly.

"Yes," Will confirmed. "Three. Although, to be strictly accurate, there've been three _dinners_. I only asked her twice."

"She asked you the third time?" Habib guessed.

"She asked me the _second_ time," Will corrected, finding amusement in pedantry. "I asked her the first and third."

"Over how long a period of time?" Habib asked.

Will shrugged. "Little over two weeks."

Habib almost dropped his head in his hands. They were eating dinner together, alone, about once a week. And Will was crediting his sudden desire to forgive Mackenzie to _a dance._ Of all the ridiculous... Then he almost laughed. "You've been _dating_ Mackenzie McHale!" Jack exclaimed almost gleefully.

Will's expression shifted to panic. "No I haven't! We've been..."

Habib was smiling now. "Going out to dinner together reasonably regularly after the show. Alone. And it sounds like lively conversation was involved..."

"Arguing," Will corrected instinctively.

"Healthy debate," Habib countered.

"About work," Will insisted.

"How is health care reform about work?" Habib wondered.

"We did a story about it!" Will insisted.

Habib waved that away. "Did you pull out her chair for her or take her coat?"

"I was being polite!" Will shot back.

Habib raised an eyebrow. "Did you pay?"

Will was really starting to get nervous now. The word _dating_, it just seemed so loaded. "I make about ten times her salary! At least!"

"Any physical contact?" Habib wondered.

"Remind me why I come here again?" Will growled. Okay, so maybe she'd kissed him on the cheek the last time, while the second had ended in a sort of half hug. But other than that (and his hand on the small of her back as he led her into the restaurant), physical contact had really been minimal. So he honestly didn't know why he was putting up with this line of questioning...

"Because you need someone to kick you in the ass sometimes," Habib told him bluntly. "You have Mackenzie for that at work, but in other situations..."

"It wasn't a date,' Will insisted quietly. "It really wasn't. I just... I wanted to spend some time with her, just a little. And not about work."

Ah, Habib thought. Now they were getting somewhere. "Why?" he asked.

Will shrugged, and stood up. Trying very hard to look casual, he walked over to the window and looked out. "I just wanted to see if we could," he admitted. "I wanted to see if we could try... if we could try to spend a little time together without it being this huge big dramatic thing. I just wanted it to be casual. I just wanted to _talk_ to her."

"You miss her," Habib guessed.

Will turned to face his doctor. "What? I see her all the time."

Habib shook his head. "Not like that. You miss the other side of your relationship with her. You miss your friendship. Aside from all of the rest of the mess between you, Mackenzie was your friend. And you miss that."

Will sighed. He supposed that was true. "Yeah."

"And the dinners are going well?" Habib asked again, more gently (and more seriously) this time.

"Yeah," Will admitted. They were going well. But he was afraid that they were only going well because they were simple, and didn't ask too much, from either of them. Still, it was nice to sit down in a restaurant across from a happy Mackenzie McHale. Because he wasn't the only one who liked to debate. He turned back towards the window. "I just wanted to see her happy," he admitted after a moment.

Habib stayed where he was. He knew Will needed his space for this. "You don't think she's happy?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know." And that hurt. He'd always used to know. And now he wasn't always sure. "She says she's fine."

"And you believe that?" Habib asked.

"Sometimes," Will admitted. But sometimes, sometimes he didn't think she was. Sometimes she looked like she wanted... like something was missing.

"And are you happy?" Habib asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Will shrugged again. There was only one answer to that. "Sometimes."

"Do you want to be happier?" Habib asked him.

Will didn't bother telling his doctor that everyone wanted to be happy. That got him nowhere. "Of course."

"Do you want to make her happier?" Habib asked gently.

Will sighed. "I don't know if I can." He didn't know if he was capable on it, in any number of ways. He didn't know if he could deal with their past, he didn't know fi he was what she needed, or even _wanted_ anymore, he didn't know if... There were still so many unknowns right now.

"Do you want to try?" Habib asked, knowing the push was necessary.

"I want to know if it's possible," Will muttered.

"Do you want to find out?" Habib asked.

Will paused. "Maybe."

Habib nodded to himself, knowing that was as good as he was ever going to get. "Then I think you should seriously start thinking about asking her to that play."

"Yeah," Will exhaled, turning back around. "We done for the week?" he asked, abruptly cutting the conversation short. He didn't want to talk about this anymore.

Habib nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. We're a couple minutes early, but I think this is a good time to stop."

"Okay," Will agreed, grabbing his coat.

"Hey Will?" Habib asked, catching the other man just before he reached the door.

"Yeah?"

The doctor smiled. "This was a good session."

Will gave a tight smile. "I'll think about the play."

"I know," Habib replied easily. The man wouldn't be able to stop himself, until he decided one way or another. And Jack was fairly certain he knew which way Will would decide.

"See you next week, Doc," Will said before ducking out into the hall.

Dr. Habib watched him go. He had a feeling the next few weeks (if not months) were going to be interesting.

xxx

TBC


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: So, I legitimately thought this one was going to be shorter, but only because I was going to break the action earlier than I did. HA. It is no shorter. Oh well. I really thought I was going to get further than this. I can't believe I'm at Chapter 3 and I'm only just here in the plotline. Anyway, enjoy! And thank you to everyone who's reviewed. I really appreciate it.

Chapter 3

xxx

A couple of weeks later, Will walked into his therapist's office as he'd been doing regularly for a little over a year now. Only this time, something was different..

Dr. Habib was used to seeing the news anchor looking slightly more relaxed. This week, he looked almost shell-shocked. Like something had happened, something that he'd been trying to keep a lid on for a while. But the strain was finally getting to him and he was fraying around the edges.

Jack shut the door and decided to skip the pleasantries. "Will? What's wrong?"

Will turned towards his therapist. He considered trying to distract Habib, but found in the end that he didn't have the energy for it right now. "I took your advice," he said again.

"What?" Dr. Habib asked.

"I took your advice," Will repeated. "About asking her, about asking Mackenzie to go with me to Don Quixote."

"Okay..." Habib said slowly. He didn't see how that would have resulted in the expression on the face of the man across from him. Unless... Oh shit. "And she said no?"

Will's eyes widened. "No!" he retorted. "She said _yes_. Why would she... Why would you assume she said no?"

Habib exhaled slowly. Not a rejection then. Well, that was one hurdle over. Now onto the next hundred or so that were still in front of them. "Because right now you look like someone's punched you in the gut," he explained calmly. "I guess I just assumed..."

"Yeah," Will muttered, sitting down hard in one of the two chairs and dropped his head in his hands.

"Will?" Habib asked, pulling his own chair slightly closer to the man sitting opposite him.

Will looked up. "It was supposed to be simple! _You_ said it would be simple. It's just a musical, for god's sakes. It shouldn't have been a big deal..."

Dr. Habib kept his voice as sympathetic as possible. "Tell me what happened."

xxx

Will walked confidently into Mac's office one evening after the show. Tonight was the night. He was going to do it. He was going to ask Mac to Don Quixote. It wasn't going to be a big deal. They were friends. And Dr. Habib was right. She was the one he wanted to go with. Sure, it'd taken him almost two weeks to work up to asking her, but that was okay. He was asking her now.

"Hey," he greeted, getting her attention.

Mac looked up from whatever she was scribbling on her desk with a smile. "Hey yourself!" she replied. "Good show tonight."

"You too," Will replied.

"Thank you," Mac replied easily. "You should tell Maggie she did a good job with the C-block tonight. A lot of that footage was her idea."

"Already told her," Will assured his EP.

Mac smiled. "Well look at you, bonding with the staff and everything, now."

Will scowled. "I always encouraged the staff!" he told her.

Mac raised an eyebrow.

Will decided he was in no mood to admit that he'd really only started doing it after she'd arrived. She'd just mock him, and he didn't want to get into that right now. He was on edge enough already. "I'm affable!" he said instead.

"Not according to your latest focus group data," Mac reminded him.

"Which is your fault," Will grumbled.

Mac shrugged. "I'd rather be intelligent and trustworthy than affable any day, Billy."

Will allowed himself a smile. "Yeah, me too."

Mac smiled back, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her desk. "Did you need something?"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something," Will told her, leading up to.

"About the show?" Mackenzie guessed.

"No," Will told her. "Not about the show."

Mac's face froze in surprise. "Oh."

"So I was thinking," Will started to explain.

"Yes?" Mac prompted.

"You got me Man of la Mancha tickets," Will reminded her, introducing the subject. "For Christmas, I mean."

"I remember," Mackenzie assured him. "You got me tickets to Carnegie Hall."

"Yeah. Sloan mentioned she enjoyed the show," Will said with a smile. Actually, the whole newsroom had to listen to the two women rave about the entire string section for two days straight. He'd thought Don was going to kill himself if he heard talk of a violin ever again. So obviously the gift had been money well spent.

"We did," Mac agreed. "I told you that."

"Yes you did. I'm glad," Will assured her.

"Okay."

"Anyway, you got me tickets to Man of la Mancha," Will said, circling back to his point.

"I did," Mac confirmed again.

"Show's in about a month," Will reminded her in a tone of voice he was pretty sure counted as casual.

Mac paused. That sounded about right. She wasn't sure why he was so fixated on this."I guess it is."

"The 22nd to be exact," Will informed her, telling himself that he was absolutely not nervous.

Mac tried not to get to excited. She didn't know where this conversation was going. He might not be... Well. Anyway, it was very important that she was casual about this. "I couldn't remember the exact date, but okay."

"You busy?" Will asked, leaning against her desk.

Mac froze. He _was. _He had to be. "What?"

"On the 22nd," Will said again. "Are you busy? You're probably busy." He winced internally. He sounded ridiculous. No wonder she was looking at him like he was crazy, or something.

"I... No, I don't think so," Mac said slowly.

"Oh," Will replied. "Okay, well good then. Because I was wondering if you wanted to go with me."

For one brief second the question hung in the air between them, and things were exactly as they should have been, full of hope and promise. Mac felt herself begin to smile, an expression that was reflected on Will's face.

Then her guilt got in the way. She wanted to go with him. She really did. But... but what if he was only asking her because he felt a sense of obligation? Because she'd given him the tickets. And they were friendlier now. They went out to dinner pretty regularly, just casually of course. Maybe he thought she was _expecting_ him to ask her. And okay, the idea _had _occurred to her that he _might_ ask her, but that hadn't been the reason she'd gotten the tickets!

That wasn't what she wanted at all. She'd given him the tickets because she'd wanted him to have a good time, and sort of to celebrate the success of the show too, as a little joke. But that didn't mean she wanted him to feel like he _had_ to ask her. She stood up, suddenly not wanting to be seated in front of him anymore, and walked around her desk towards him. "Will, you know I'd love to go, but those tickets were a gift."

He frowned. No he didn't. He didn't know that she'd love to go at all. How would he have known that? And what did the tickets being a gift have to do with anything? "Yes, Mac," he said a bit sarcastically. "I figured they were a gift, given that you, y'know, handed them to me in a Christmas card and said, _Merry Christmas, Will._"

Mac swallowed. He sounded upset. Of course he did. How had she fucked everything up again? God, she was practically poisonous to him. "I just meant that you don't need to feel obligated to ask me," she took a step towards him and tried to explain.

"I don't," Will assured her immediately.

Mackenzie reached for him and tried again. "Will..."

"I don't!" Will repeated, this time with a wave of his hands for emphasis (and knocking her hand off his elbow in the process). "Besides, who am I going to go with if not my Dulcinea, or Sancho, or whoever the hell you are."

And that was the point, wasn't it, Mac thought sadly. She didn't want him to go with her because he felt like he _should. _"At least I'm not the donkey," she said dryly.

"I believe you originally said horse," Will couldn't help reminding her.

"And I was swiftly corrected," Mac replied, feeling like maybe the conversation was getting back on track a little.

"I'm a newsman, Mac," Will reminded her. "_I_ care about the facts."

"Yes," Mac said, her eyes flicking downwards and dropping her hand. She tried not to read too much into that. "_You're_ very ethical."

Will swore under his breath. "Oh god, no that. Not _that_ Mac. Of all the things I've ever accused you of, lacking in journalistic ethics is not one of them. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've told you you're annoyingly ethical more than once." This time he was the one to take a step forward. He wrapped his hand under her elbow before adding softly. "I was just teasing you."

Mac shut her eyes briefly. He probably had been, and because she was always so stupidly sensitive about everything, she'd gone and... Fuck. "Okay."

"I was," Will insisted.

"You don't do that very much anymore," Mac said quietly as she opened her eyes. He was so very close now. And his eyes were sorry. She loved his eyes.

"Sometimes I do," Will reminded her, finding half a smile.

Mac found a half a smile to send him back. "Sometimes."

"Maybe I want to do it more," Will suggested tentatively. He'd like to tease her. If he could tease her, she'd look amused, maybe even happy. She wouldn't look... sad.

And just like that, Mac wondered if maybe things weren't quite as fucked up as she'd thought. "What?"

Will sighed and dropped her arm. "Sometimes I don't know where I am with you Mac. I want us to be able to have a normal fucking conversation. And I don't... I don't want it to be you looking over your shoulder, waiting for everything I say to you to hurt."

Mac bit her lip. She'd been right. It had been all her fault. Because she expected it. "I'm sorry."

Her apology made him angry. "God damn it. Don't apologize. That's not the point. Don't act like you're..." Will took a breath and told him to calm down. She was already looking at him like she was wounded.

"Like I'm what?" Mackenzie asked, prompting him.

"Nothing," Will muttered, running a hand through his hair.

But this time Mac stood firm. If he'd meant what he'd said before; if he _really _wanted to... "No, you started this. You want us to have normal conversations? That takes two. Look at you like I'm what, Billy?"

"Like you're afraid of m..." he swallowed the last word. "Afraid that I'll hurt you."

Mac's expression shifted to one of horror. "Oh Billy, _no,_" she insisted. This time it was her turn to take a step closer, right into his personal space. She placed a hand on his chest, before sliding it up to his shoulder. She couldn't believe he sometimes thought she was _frightened_ of him. Sometimes he got angry, sure, but it'd never even occurred to her to... She knew about his family, and... Well, she couldn't bear the idea of _that_ worrying him, of all things. _That_ needed to change.

"Anyway, I'm asking you to go with me to the musical because I want you to," Will said quickly, trying to get the conversation back on track. She didn't look frightened now; she just looked sad, and sorry. And he didn't want that either. He resisted the urge to lean his forehead against hers. "I'm asking you because it will feel strange going with someone else, but if you don't want to..." he sighed and looked away, trying to avoid her eyes. He wondered when this had gotten so fucked up. Maybe he was just kidding himself, hoping that he and Mac could ever have even a friendship that was even remotely normal.

"But I _do_," Mackenzie told him without hesitation. She remembered nights at the theatre with Will. When they went to the theatre he'd always been completely in the moment if the production was good. And when he wasn't busy looking at the stage, he was looking at her, usually like she was the only woman in the world. She'd always felt that way at least. She'd have to be an idiot not to want that again. "I'd like that very much," she assured him. That had never been in question.

He risked a glance at her then, pleased to see her smiling at him. That damn smile of hers. He smiled tentatively back. "Well, good then. So you will go with me?"

Mac's smile widened. "I'd love too."

Will exhaled. "Okay."

But Mac wasn't quite done. She felt the need to explain, because she didn't want him to worry about it. "I just, I didn't want you to feel obligated to take me. That's all. It felt like sort of, against the whole point of the gift. I got you the tickets because I wanted you to enjoy them. I'd love to go with you, if that's what you want."

Will felt a wave of relief crash over him. He understood that feeling. He'd felt it himself. If that was all that had been worrying her, then they were fine. And just like that, everything felt a little bit better. "I wouldn't have asked you if I hadn't wanted to go with you, Mackenzie," he assured her.

Mac smiled. "Okay."

Will glanced down at her hand still on his chest. He'd almost forgotten about that. "Okay, well... I guess I should..."

But Mac wasn't done with this. Her hand shifted to his arm to hold him in place. "Hold on a minute."

Will paused.

Mac centred herself directly in front of him and looked him square in the eye. Her grip on his arm tightened even further. "I'm not afraid of you, Billy."

Will inhaled quickly. "Mac..."

"No," she said firmly, stopping his interruption. "This is important. I know we're fucked up, Will. I _know_ that. No one knows it better than me. But we're going to get one thing straight _right now_. I don't care if it's the only thing we ever get straight again. This is important. I am not afraid of you, William Duncan McAvoy. I have _never_ been afraid of you, not _ever_. You have _never_ done anything to make me feel unsafe in your presence." Mac swallowed, before adding quietly. "Quite the opposite."

For a second Will thought his heart was going to explode in his chest. "Thank you."

Mac glanced down quickly before meeting his eyes again, "Do you believe me?"

"Yes," Will breathed. He did. Oh god, he _did._

Mac wasn't quite sure. "Will..."

He tried to explain. "Sometimes it feels like you look at me like you..." he swallowed, finding he couldn't actually bear the idea of her being afraid of him.

Mac glanced away, finding she couldn't bear to look at him anymore. "Like I'm dreading hearing you say something that I deserve," she said softly.

And Will felt his heart crack a little all over again. _Oh god._ He'd known she felt badly about things, that she'd regretted... That she felt guilty. But... He shifted closer, trying to get her to look at him, and settling for wrapping a hand around her waist. "Maybe I wish you would stop doing that."

"Looking at you?" Mac wondered. She wasn't sure how _that_ would work, unless she left the country again.

He shook his head. "Looking at me like you expect to be punished."

Mac did look at him then. "I thought you liked punishing me?"

Will sighed, "I did."

"Oh," Mac dropped her hand from his arm.

Will didn't drop his hand from around her waist; he tried to explain. "I don't anymore."

"What?" Mac asked quickly.

"I'm trying to stop," Will told her. "I'm doing my best."

"Billy..." she murmured.

"I'm not going to promise you that I'm never going to do it again, Mac," Will warned. They needed to be realistic about this. "I can't do that.

"Right," Mackenzie swallowed.

"Yet," Will couldn't stop himself from adding. It couldn't be hopeless. It _couldn't_ be.

Mackenzie's eyes seemed to think so. "Yet?"

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to promise you that, but I'm trying," Will muttered, sliding his arm a little farther around her waist.

_"What?"_ Mac half sobbed, leaning her head on his chest. Her heart was racing. She was about thirty seconds from throwing herself in his arms. She hadn't expected... She wasn't prepared to deal with this. What he was saying, if he meant it... _Oh god. _ "Really?"

"I just want the two of us to be able to have a conversation outside of work that's actually functional," Will continued. He supposed he should have mentioned a little of this to her earlier, but he'd kind of been hoping that maybe she'd just _realize_. Things had been going pretty well, and...

"I like to think we're getting better," Mac murmured.

Will exhaled. At least they could agree on that. "Me too."

She looked up at him again, quickly wiping her eyes. "I'm not scared of you, Billy," she said again.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Mac," he replied.

"It's okay," she said out of habit. She'd been telling herself that for so long now.

He sighed. He wasn't sure that it was. "No, it's not."

"Oh," and to both of their surprise, she let out a sob.

Will had his arms around her before either of them realized what was happening. "Mac.." he whispered. "Don't, oh please don't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"S'okay," Mackenzie sniffed. "Deserved it."

Will practically growled. "Would you stop saying that?"

"But I did," Mac couldn't help pointing out. She'd done an awful thing to him. She'd made a terrible mistake. She'd always understood his anger.

Will shook his head. "I... I don't like it when you're upset."

That made her smile. "I don't like it when you're upset either."

"I know," Will assured her. He glanced down at the woman who was still sniffling slightly. "Hey, am I making you feel any better here? Any better at all."

Mac let out a shaky laugh. "You know, it used to make me feel even worse when you were nice to me when I did something to hurt you."

That made him frown. "Like when?"

Mac stepped back and shrugged. "Like with Wade."

Will's mouth tightened. A yes, _Wade._ That asshole. He'd have happily punched that man, except then it would have ended up in the damn tabloids and... He turned back to Mackenzie's desk, grabbed a tissue and handed it to her.

She took it gratefully.

"Wade's an idiot," Will assured her. "And if I'm supposed to stop worrying about you being afraid of me..."

"I'm not afraid of you," Mac interjected.

"_If_ I'm supposed to stop worrying about you being afraid of me," Will continued. "Then I think I'd like it if you stopped feeling badly whenever I'm even a little bit nice to you."

Mac paused in wiping her eyes. That actually... It kind of made sense. She sent him a slightly watery smile. "I'll do my best."

Will smiled back. "That's all I can ask."

"Okay."

"Okay," Will agreed. "Well, I guess I'll see you at the rundown." He turned towards the door.

Her voice stopped him. "Will?"

He turned back.

All traces of the tears were gone. Her shoulders were back and her chin was up. This was Mac at her most authoritative. It meant she was either going to order him to do something, or scold him. "I have _never_ been afraid of you, Billy," she said with a quiet intensity. " And don't you _ever_ forget that."

He nodded once, before slipping out of her office and heading for his own. He needed a few minutes to himself.

xxx

Will was staring off at the wall in his psychiatrist's office. "She's not afraid of me. She's never..."

"Why would she have been afraid of you?" Habib asked gently, interrupting the story for the first time.

Will shrugged. "Apparently, I frighten some people."

Jack sighed. He was beginning to realize how big a deal this was to the anchor. "Will..."

"And sometimes, when she looked at me, with those damn big eyes of hers, I swear it was like she was scared of what I'm going to do. Like she was just expecting..." Will took a breath. "Sometimes I thought she was a little afraid of me." He'd never said anything before because he couldn't. And most of the time he hadn't really thought Mac was frightened of him, but just sometimes...

"She says she wasn't," Habib reminded him.

"I _know_," Will assured the other man. That was the whole _point._

Habib wondered if Mackenzie McHale even knew what she'd done when she'd said those words. If she knew what affect they'd have on Will. Jack realized suddenly that she almost certainly had; that's why she'd emphasized them. It seemed that Will's protectiveness of his EP ran both ways. Interesting. "And how do you feel about that?" Habib asked his patient, turning back to the conversation at hand.

"I'm just so sick of her looking at me like that," Will muttered.

"Like what?" Habib prompted.

"Like I'm going to stick a knife in her gut," Will replied harshly.

"You know why she does, or at least why she used to," Habib pointed out. He knew Will was going through some stuff, but it was important to acknowledge that, justified or not, provoked or not, Will had hurt Mackenzie more than once, particularly when she'd first returned to New York.

"Hey! She stuck a knife in my gut first!" Will objected.

"I know," Dr. Habib assured him. "I'm not assigning blame. I'm just pointing out that..."

"That part of this fucked up mess is because of me," Will snapped. "_I know_. Whatever. I just, yes, sometimes I feel the urge to cause her pain. Or I have in the past. There, I said it. Now go on and tell me what a horrible person I am."

Habib almost smiled. "You're not a horrible person, Will."

Will looked up in disbelief.

"You were betrayed. You were hurt," the doctor paused. "You're still trying to figure that out."

"Doesn't mean I'm not sick of seeing that expression on her face," Will said again. "I want…"

"Will?" Habib prompted.

He sighed. "I want her to look at me like she was when we were dancing together."

"That's why you asked how to forgive someone," the doctor surmised. And it was also why Will thought the whole thing had started with that moment.

"Yes," Will admitted.

"You want to stop hurting her," Habib pressed.

"Yes," Will murmured.

"Because it's also hurting you," Habib added.

Will paused. "Well, I... yes."

Habib nodded. This was progress. Still, he had a word of caution. "Even if you forgive her, it's not magically going to fix everything."

Will looked up annoyed. "I know that!"

"Do you?" Habib checked.

"Yes! I do live in the real world, Doc," Will assured the other man. "I'm not expecting violins and songbirds. I just want to..."

"To?"

"To maybe be a little bit happier, or a little less sad," Will admitted. And he'd been hoping, well, that being friends with Mackenzie might help with that.

"Do you want her to be a little bit happier as well?" Habib asked. "Genuinely?"

Will glared at his shrink. What kind of a question was that? He knew he was an asshole sometimes, but he wasn't _that_ much of an asshole. "Of course."

Suddenly, and to Will's surprise, Habib smiled. "And doesn't that sound like a good first step towards forgiveness to you?"

Will froze. He'd never thought about it like that. "I guess, I don't know. This is more your area of expertise."

"I think it does," Habib assured the other man. "Now, do you want to talk about why you looked almost upset when you walked in?"

"I thought that's what we were talking about," Will shot back.

Habib leaned forward. "I meant specifically."

Will sighed. "I guess, just hearing her tell me that she wasn't afraid of me. That she'd _never..._"

"It shook you up a bit?" Habib supplied. It made sense. Will had spent the better part of the last five years shutting down his feelings (with a few notable exceptions). Now that he was actually confronting some of them, well, Jack was pretty sure the anchor would find it an adjustment, and sometimes a rough one at that.

"Yeah," Will murmured. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed to hear her say it. To have someone assure him that he wasn't a complete asshole. Because it turned out, he did care what people thought of him. And he really didn't want them to be afraid of him.

"Are you feeling better now?" Habib asked.

Will nodded. "I guess."

"Talking about it helped?" Habib suggested.

"Sure," Will muttered.

Habib smiled. "Have you considered talking about it a bit more with Mackenzie? Maybe have another one of your friendly, casual dinners."

Will scowled at the description. Those dinners _were_ friendly and casual. "We didn't end up grabbing dinner this week. Things were busy, and I guess... I don't know, I guess we both felt like we needed a little time to sort things out. At least, I did. Maybe we can talk about it next week."

Habib frowned. "Please tell me you haven't been avoiding Mackenzie for the week." That would send the poor woman more mixed messages than a poorly subtitled film.

_"What?_ Why the hell would I do that?" Will demanded, waving his hands around in exasperation. "Of course I haven't been... That would have just made everything worse all over again! I just, I don't want to get dinner. It's not like we have a set schedule or anything. It just works out to about once a week. That's _all._"

"So you have talked to Mackenzie?" Habib pressed.

Will started fidgeting slightly in his chair. "Sort of."

Habib raised an eyebrow.

Will sighed. "I figured dinner probably wasn't going to happen, but I didn't want her to think I was mad at her, so..."

"So?" Habib asked, beginning to suspect that Will hadn't actually been as stupid as he'd thought

Will shook his head slightly. "So, I wanted to make sure she knew I wasn't mad at her."

xxx

The morning after her little emotional breakdown with Will (also known as the day he'd asked her to the theatre in a perfectly normal manner, and she'd freaked out), Mackenzie McHale walked towards her office feeling surprisingly cheerful. Sure, the day before had been a little... intense. , but she and Will had gotten through it. Even apart from reassuring will, he'd told her that he didn't like it when she was upset. That, she had decided, made yesterday a good day. So she was going to be cautiously optimistic for the day ahead.

She said hello to a few people who were manning the newsroom before breezing into her office. She hung up her jacket, letting the door shut behind her, and turned towards her desk, ready to start work. Only to freeze in her tracks.

There were flowers on her desk. Dead centre. On her desk. In a vase. Beautiful flowers, really beautiful. Iris, and baby's breath, and even a few little sweetheart roses.

Mac approached the arrangement slowly, biting her lip and telling herself that the bubble of hope in her chest was foolish.

Except... except that a small part of her was arguing that maybe, _maybe_, it wasn`t.

She reached for the card with a shaking hand.

Flipping it open, she gasped.

All it said was _Thank you,_ but she recognized the writing.

Tucking the card in her pocket, Mac gave herself a shake and turned back the way she'd come. She had a feeling she wasn't the only one who was in early today.

xx

As she'd expected, Mac found Will already in his office. He was sitting behind his desk with papers in front of him. Ostensibly he'd been working, but Mac was pretty sure he'd been waiting for her.

"Do you need something?" Will asked, trying to play it cool.

Mac tilted her head to the side and held up the card.

"Ah," Will said. So she was skipping the preliminaries today. She always had been blunt. "You found the flowers."

Mac smirked, strolling towards him. "The ones sitting in the middle of my desk when I got in? Yeah, I noticed those."

Will nodded. "Well, good. Otherwise I'd suggest an eye appointment was necessary."

Mac perched on the corner of his desk, crossing her legs. "Why?" she asked softly.

Will took a moment to appreciate her legs before answering. He was going to make another joke when he made the mistake of meeting her eyes. "Because I wanted to," he told her instead.

To his surprise, his (somewhat unimaginative) answer made her smile. "They're beautiful," she said.

"Well, I'm glad you like them," Will muttered.

"I do," Mackenzie assured him. "I was just wondering what you were thanking me for."

Will took a breath. He'd known this was coming. "I just... I just wanted to let you know that I appreciated what you said. Y'know, when..." he trailed off.

Mac filled in the gaps. "When I told you I wasn't afraid of you. That I'd never been afraid of you."

Will glanced away before meeting her eyes again. "Yeah."

Mac tried to find a smile for him. She knew it probably wasn't her best effort. So she allowed herself the luxury of running her hand through his hair. Just once. Just to make him feel better. "You should listen to me, you know."

Will pretended to scowl. "When don't I listen to you? If I don't, you're like a terrier yapping at me until you get what you want."

"Yeah, you're a regular pushover, never argue back at all," Mac shot back. "And you never do things I don't like."

Will smirked.

"This time though, you really should pay attention when I tell you things," Mac said softly.

Will nodded once. "Thank you."

She stood up, realizing that if she didn't get out of there, one or both of them was going to have a second emotional breakdown in as many days. And that hadn't been her intention at all. "You're a good man, Will McAvoy," she said playfully. "Thank you for the flowers."

Will watched her go affectionately (now that her back was turned). "You're welcome."

"And Will?" Mac asked just before she reached the door.

"Yeah?"

"Did you notice how you did something nice for me and I just thanked you for it?" Mac asked with twinkling eyes. Because she wasn't upset about her new flowers at all.

Will let out a huff of laughter. He _hadn't_ noticed that actually, but he couldn't say he was all that upset that she'd pointed it out. "Don't you have some kind of actual work you could be doing?"

Mac smirked. She'd let him get away with that, but only because she liked her flowers. "On my way to do it now. See you at the rundown meeting."

Mac was biting her lip as she left his office, trying to contain her grin. Yeah, today was definitely going to be a good day.

xxx

TBC


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Me again! (All of the chapters aren't going to come this fast, but I have this section rather well plotted out in my head and it wants to get down on paper, SO.) Actually, the next chapter might not take very long, because I thought it was going to be part of this chapter. Except that things got insanely long, and I had to split the section. So here we go, Chapter 4. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

xxx

A few weeks later, Jack Habib was getting ready for his next session with Will McAvoy. He wondered what mood the man would be in when he arrived today. Jack had watched the anchor slowly settle into his shifting relationship with Mackenzie. Will was still sorting through a lot of things, but he'd had seemed a little calmer in the weeks after Mackenzie had accepted his invitation to the theatre. Things were on a more even keel for the time being, but Jack knew it was still a roll of the dice basically as to what mood Will would be in when he walked through the door.

The man actually hadn't arrived yet, which was odd. Will had been coming regularly lately; when he was going to skip an appointment, he usually called. And when he wasn't skipping an appointment, he was generally prompt. Yet today, it was five minutes past the hour and Will still hadn't shown up. Habib hoped that wasn't a sign of things to come, or a sign that something was wrong. He knew it was unavoidable (and inevitable), but it was always a little frustrating whenever a patient encountered a setback.

He supposed he'd get used to it the longer he was in practice.

Just as he was about to give the session up as lost, Will walked through the door.

"Hey Doc," he greeted, sounding a little harried. "Sorry I'm late, things are a little crazy this week in the newsroom."

"Not a problem," Habib assured the other man. He gestured to the chairs. "So things are busy at work?"

"Yeah," Will said, dropping into the chair with a whoosh. He had the air of a man who'd been running around all morning. "This week's been something."

Habib frowned slightly. He usually kept decent track of current events. He certainly wasn't as knowledgeable as say, a news anchor, but he was informed. And he couldn't think of anything that was going on in the world that would warrant a lot of extra activity in a newsroom (a place that Jack imagined was always at least reasonably busy). There'd been no recent political scandal, no particularly noteworthy crime, no major environmental disaster, nothing that would indicate it was anything other than a normal work week. "What's so special about this week?" Habib asked.

Will shrugged. "Well, we're doing profiles of some of the congressmen, from both sides of the aisle obviously. Their records since they've been in congress, attendance, voting record, bills introduced, that sort of thing. It's something we've been planning on doing for a while now, but have never really been able to fit it in. Now seemed like a good time."

"So, it's not actually a particularly busy news week," Habib surmised.

Will shrugged. "Nah, I guess it's pretty average, apart from the Spotlights on Congress. That's what we're calling them. Every member of the newsroom staff picked a member of the House of Representatives and is responsible for finding the pertinent information about them. I checked the final list to make sure that we weren't missing anyone important, but I think we've got pretty good representation, if you'll pardon the pun."

Habib smiled. "Mac didn't choose the assignments?" he asked.

Will sighed. "Oh, _Mac _had her input. That woman. I spent a series of phone calls that cumulatively added up to over two hours with her about the final list. I shudder to think about how long Jim had to endure her voice issuing orders in his ear."

That got Jack's attention. "Mac's not in the newsroom, then?"

Will shook his head. "Not for the last couple of days. She's supposed to come back tomorrow. I don't know why she doesn't just take the week. Although, she's been doing her damnedest to work from another state, so..."

Habib smiled. "I suppose the fact that you're missing an EP might explain in part why things are so busy."

Will sighed. "The woman always seems to be running somewhere, and I guess, you just kind of get used to it. That's just _Mac._ She just naturally operates at top speed."

"But then she goes away, and you see how much she actually _does_," Dr. Habib suggested.

That made Will smile. "We're muddling through without her. After all, Jim knows what he's doing. Mac picked her senior producer well, even if I keep expecting him to end up with a concussion any day now. He's been doing a great job holding everything together, but..."

"But he's not Mackenzie," Habib surmised.

Will looked very hard at his psychiatrist for a second. That had been very pointed. "No," he said after a moment. "He's not Mackenzie."

Dr. Habib just nodded.

"There's a reason most people consider her the best EP in the business," Will assured his psychiatrist.

"So, that's not just you then?" Habib teased.

Will glared. "According to Charlie, it's about 80% of the news media."

Habib nodded. "So I guess you're lucky to get her then."

"I guess I am," Will replied. "Even if half the time she makes me want to tear out my hair." The woman drove him crazy, but he could admit that he was missing hearing her voice in his ear every night. Jim _really _wasn't the same in that regard.

"So, why isn't she in the newsroom this week?" Habib asked.

The question wiped any traces of a smile off Will's face. "Her Dad."

The doctor shifted in his seat. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. Losing a parent was never easy. He knew that better than most. At least he'd had a bit of warning with his own father. "Is he..." Jack tried to phrase the question delicately. "I mean, has he passed on?"

Will glared at him. "No!" he said. "He's still alive. He just, he hasn't had the greatest health in the last few years. He's been advised to take it easy, from what I understand anyway. And, well, apparently he wasn't taking it easy enough, because late last week he was admitted to the hospital because of his heart. It wasn't quite a heart attack, but..."

"Angina?" Habib guessed.

"Yeah," Will muttered. "They kept him in a few days. Mac was pretty upset."

"Understandably," the psychiatrist said.

"Yeah," Will nodded. "Of course, I still pretty much had to order her to take the time off. Stupid, stubborn woman, like the newsroom can't function without her for a few days. I swear, she thinks if she's gone for a week, everyone will backslide and we'll be covering the rich housewives of wherever."

"Real housewives," Habib corrected automatically.

"Whatever," Will replied. "That's beside the point."

Yes it was, Habib agreed. In fact, he wanted to go back to something Will had said earlier. "What did you mean when you said that you had to order her to take the time off?"

Will paused. "I meant, Mac's a workaholic. I'm not sure she was going to take any time off, and I simply suggested, maybe a little emphatically, that she should. And that the rest of us would all survive in her absence."

Habib shook his head. "No, I understand _that_. I mean, why were you discussing..."

"Why were we discussing her father's health at all?" Will asked incredulously.

"Yes."

Will stared at the man across from him. "Oh, I don't know Jack. Because she's my friend? Because she was obviously upset? Or maybe it was because I've actually met the man in question several times myself, and so would be concerned about his health regardless of my relationship to his daughter. Not to mention, that it's really not gonna be great for the show if my executive producer falls apart while we're on the air because she's terrified because her father's lying in a hospital bed and she hasn't had the chance to go and see him just to reassure herself that he's really recovering as well as her mother says he is."

Well, that was a very complete answer, Habib thought to himself. "You think she'd fall apart during the show?"

"No, you're right," Will agreed. "She's a professional. She'd hold it together for the hour out of sheer stubbornness and then go collapse later in her office. That'd be much better."

Habib winced. "I didn't mean..."

"What?" Will snapped. He wasn't sure where the adolescent sitting across from him was going with this line of questioning, but he didn't like it.

Dr. Habib gave himself a mental reminder to tread particularly carefully this week. Will seemed to be feeling even more protective of his EP than usual (which was saying something). Jack suspected it was because the man couldn't protect her from what was actually causing her pain, so Will McAvoy was damn well going to protect her from anything else that came along. "I think it's great that you both feel comfortable enough with each other to discuss personal things like this," Jack said gently, holding up a hand when it looked like Will was going to interrupt again. "I understand why you'd want to offer your support for this. It wasn't my intention to criticize either you, or Mackenzie. What I meant was, what were the specifics of the situation that led to you ordering Mackenzie to take some time off. Were you at work? Did she call you after hours? That sort of thing. I wasn't trying to be insensitive, Will."

Will forced himself to take a deep breath. There was a small chance he might have over-reacted. "Sorry."

Jack shook his head. "No, I could have phrased the question better."

Will just humphed, but Dr. Habib was pretty sure it was an agreement.

"Will..."

"It's just, Mac's always idolized her father," Will tried to explain. "And pretty much, deservedly. He's a good man. A really good man. His daughter is his pride and joy. He's exactly what a father's supposed to be."

"Unlike yours," Habib observed.

Will glared at the man sitting across from him. He really didn't see what that had to do with anything. "Now, why would you..."

"Because I'm sure you've made the comparison," Dr. Habib replied immediately.

Will winced. "Okay, maybe I have. But that's beside the point."

Habib decided to let that slide for the time being. "So, Mac's father, he's a good man?"

"Yeah."

"When was the last time you spoke to him?" Jack asked.

"Over five years ago," Will admitted.

Jack had figured as much, but he asked the question anyway. "You didn't keep in touch?"

"After I broke his daughter's heart?" Will asked incredulously. Because that was likely. "No."

"I thought she broke yours?" Habib replied.

Will snorted. "Not from his perspective."

Habib had to give the other man that. Most fathers would automatically take their daughter's side against a stranger. "True."

"Anyway, Mac was pretty upset," Will said, turning the subject back to the previous week and away from what made a good father.

"I would guess," Habib agreed.

"Actually, I think she got the phone call a fair bit after the fact," Will admitted. And he'd known that had upset her. "Maybe noon the day after her father went into the hospital. Apparently he didn't want her disturbed during her show, and after that, her parents decided it was too late to call, and since her dad was in no immediate danger they figured... Obviously they've never really adjusted to Mac's schedule, because the only reason she ever goes to bed before midnight is if she's sick, and usually not even then."

"So when did she find out?" Habib asked.

"Noon the next day," Will told him.

"She told you then?" Habib asked, though he was guessing not, the way this story was going.

Will laughed mirthlessly. "She didn't tell anybody then. Stubborn idiot."

"What did she do?" Jack asked softly.

"She came to work!" Will practically yelled. "What else would she do?"

Habib ignored the tone. He knew Will's frustration wasn't directed at him. "I guess everyone has their ways of coping."

"Yeah, it was a Friday anyway, and I guess her parents told her she wasn't needed at the hospital," Will explained. "Her Dad told her he'd watch her show and know she was thinking about him."

"So when did you..." Jack asked again when Will didn't continue.

"After the show, and Hang Chews," Will answered quickly.

Jack was surprised by that answer. "You didn't notice she was upset until after the show?"

Will glared at the wall. "Of course I noticed she was upset!" he snapped. "But short of locking her in my office and refusing to let her out until she breaks, it's kind of hard to get Mac to tell you anything she doesn't want to."

"I know the feeling," Habib muttered.

Will decided not to justify that little aside with an answer.

"So when did you finally talk to Mac?" Habib asked, getting the conversation back on track.

"Well," Will said slowly. "Mac's pretty bad at keeping her feelings a secret in the long run anyway, but if there's anything that's practically guaranteed to make her crack, it's alcohol, and not even that much of it. Unfortunately, when that happens, everything tends to just spill out of her..."

xxx

He'd been watching her carefully for the last half hour. He'd been pretending to be listening to the conversation of the junior staffers sitting around him; so far he was pretty sure they were buying it. All he had to do was make a comment about the general state of underfunded government programs or the importance of holding politicians accountable for the things they said, or something similar and their chatter continued on around him, leaving him free to watch Mackenzie. She'd been off all day. Oh, she'd been professional. She was keeping it together, but he knew her.

Something was wrong. He could see it in the corners of her eyes.

And she was going to tell him what it was. He'd decided that hours ago, just before the show had started actually. He'd play the friend card if he had to. Will had no qualms about using some sort of emotional leverage to get Mackenzie McHale to talk to him. He was sure it would work.

In the meantime, he had to figure out how to get her out of the bar. He figured it would be best if he could get her alone, and Wang Chews, for all its many advantages (okay, there was really just the one), was not a good place for private conversation. On the other hand, she was currently talking to Sloan, so maybe Sloan would take care of it, whatever it was.

Will scowled, trying not to admit to himself that _he_ wanted to be the one to take care of it, her, whatever. He wanted to be the one sitting there, lending a sympathetic ear. Instead, he was across the room pretending to listening to a group of people barely half his age discuss politics. And anyway, it wasn't not like Sloan was an expert with the emotional stuff. In fact, she was generally accepted to be the actual worst person to go to with a personal problem (something that Will had discovered already, to his own cost).

As it turned out, Sloan hadn't been providing a particularly sympathetic ear for most of her conversation with Mackenzie. Not deliberately, but because Mac hadn't mentioned anything was wrong. Sloan had noticed that her friend seemed a little down, but hadn't really pried, beyond asking Mac if she was okay.

So, after Mac assured her friend that she was fine, that nothing was wrong, that she was just tired, Sloan had reverted to the familiar. In other words, she'd started to talk to Mac about economics, and why she might need a few extra minutes one night early next week.

Even if Mac's week had been going smoothly, it's doubtful that she would have listened to one word out of three. After learning the basics of economics for her panel, she'd decided that it might be better for all concerned to just let Sloan handle the economic stories. Not because she _couldn't_ learn it, but she found that she really didn't _want to._

Mostly Mackenzie was playing with her drink, and trying not to think about her father in a hospital bed in a whole other state, while she, terrible daughter that she was, was out with her friends, enjoying herself. (The fact that she wasn't actually enjoying herself was irrelevant to Mackenzie's guilt.)

It was finishing her second cosmo that sparked the change.

"My drink's empty," she said sadly.

Sloan paused in her explanation of the importance of enforcing financial regulations. "So order another one," she said practically. "I'm sure we can find a waiter around here somewhere."

"I don't want another one!" Mackenzie practically wailed. "I shouldn't even be having this one! I'm a terrible person!"

Sloan wasn't panicked at first. Seemingly random outbursts from Mackenzie weren't all that uncommon. She grabbed a couple of napkins and handed them to the woman across from her. "You're not a terrible person," she assured her friend. She wasn't sure what had prompted the outburst, but she knew that. Mac may have made a few mistakes, but so had everybody else. She was far from a terrible person.

"I am. I'm a terrible daughter," Mac insisted.

Sloan frowned. That was a new one. "Why are you a terrible daughter?" she asked.

"Because my father's in the hospital!" Mac said as she blew her nose. "And I'm here, enjoying myself. Drinking! I should be, I don't know... At his bedside, or something."

"Oh Mac," Sloan said sympathetically, reaching a hand across the table. "Is it serious?"

"I don't know!" Mac replied. "They say not, but I think my parents would say that if he was on death's door, just to make sure I don't worry. I'm their daughter. I'm _supposed_ to worry. That's supposed to be what I do."

Sloan was about to point out that Mac seemed to be doing a bang up job on that front right now, but she bit her tongue just in time.

Anyway, Mac was doing quite well keeping the conversation going on her own. There wasn't a lot Sloan could do, other than nod sympathetically and supply more napkins at appropriate intervals.

"They told him to take it easy about six years ago, just after he retired. Not that he will! He's always doing all of these things, and yeah, he's gotten better, mostly because my mother threatens him if he doesn't, but he still does way too much! I know he does. And now..." Mac paused to blow her nose.

Sloan was too focused on Mackenzie's tearful tirade to notice the man coming up behind her until he was right there. And then it was too late to warn the other woman. Not that Sloan could have gotten a word in edgewise anyway.

"He's got a heart problem. He knows he does!" Mackenzie half-blubbered as she stood up from her chair, on her way to who-knows-where. Maybe she just wanted to emphasize her point. In the middle of a bar. "But does he tell me when there are changes! No! I just get to hear about it when my Mother calls from the hospital…" Then suddenly, and helped by the hand suddenly on the small of her back, Mackenzie let herself spin into the chest behind her.

With a sob of relief, Mackenzie wrapped her arms around her comforter, instinctively knowing who it was.

"It's okay," Will murmured against her ear.

"He knows he needs to take it easy. Why does he keep pushing himself?" Mac asked, the question half-obscured against Will's shoulder, more than willing to take the comfort he was offering.

Sloan wasn't sure who Mac was talking to, but she was more than happy to assume it wasn't her anymore. It probably was Will anyway, right? Particularly given that Mac was hanging onto him pretty tightly.

Will certainly seemed to think he was the one being addressed. "Because he doesn't know how to do anything else," he reminded Mac softly.

"My Dad's in the hospital, Billy," Mac hiccupped.

"I heard," Will said softly. He was pretty sure almost half the bar had, but he wasn't going to mention that. He'd known something was wrong, but he hadn't known it was anything like this. He knew it had to be killing her to be here while her father was ill. "I'm sorry Mac."

Mackenzie burrowed slightly deeper into Will's shoulder, relaxing for a second before suddenly stiffening. "Oh god! And now you're being nice to me on top of everything!."

"I know," Will said simply.

"Oh," Mac sobbed.

"Well, I know how that makes you feel sometimes, and I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to really stick it to ya," Will said dryly, rubbing her back gently, hoping to soothe her.

To Sloane's surprise, Mac actually _laughed._

"Billy..."

"I know," he muttered. Grabbing her coat off her chair with one arm, he awkwardly tried to wrap it around her with the hopes of encouraging her to slip her arms through the sleeves. At least one of them. He'd get one in and then he'd figure out the other one. Somehow. He'd figure it out. "Your Dad's tough. He showed me a thing or two."

"Not exactly a ringing endorsement," Mac muttered.

That made Will pause in his valiant efforts to get her right arm in its proper sleeve. "Hey!"

"Like you're tough," Mac scoffed, enjoying being in his arms. "You're... you're the _opposite_ of tough... You're... You're like a grouchy basset hound. A big, secretly gentle, loyal, grouchy basset hound who's barely a foot tall and... and..."

"Excellent simile," Will assured her dryly as she trailed off.

"You're a puppy dog," Mac insisted against his chest. He was, she decided. A loyal, protective puppy dog. Whose bark had always been worse than his bite.

Will took her mockery as a sign she was starting to get it together. He still wanted to get her out of the bar and take her somewhere quiet though. "He'll get through this."

Mac looked up at him through teary eyes. "You think?"

Will sent her a reassuring smile. "I do."

"Oh." Mac's coat was now successfully on her, but she was still angled into Will's chest.

Sloan couldn't help noticing that the face of Atlantis Cable News didn't seem to mind getting close to his executive producer. His arms were still around the shaking woman, in a gesture that seemed to be half comfort half... protection. Sloan had sudden flashbacks of Mackenzie standing in her office, earnestly insisting that _Will was not an ass._

It made Sloan wonder just what Mac and Will knew about each other (that no one else did). And actually, come to think of it, Sloan also wondered how Will had known that he needed to be across the bar at that exact moment. Her eyes narrowed.

Will wasn't paying her any attention at all to her, of course. "Come on, let's get you somewhere quiet," he coaxed the woman in his arms.

"Okay," Mac agreed, happy to let him lead her out of the bar. She really didn't want to be there anymore

Will paused as he passed Sloan, one arm still around his companion's waist. He fished awkwardly for his wallet.

"I've got it Will," Sloan assured him with a hand on his free arm. "You just get her home."

Will nodded. "Thanks."

Then, signalling to the waiter to call a cab, he led Mackenzie to the door.

"What was that?" Jim asked, walking up behind Sloan.

Sloan was still watching the other two leave. "That was two people showing the world they're idiots. And they need to get over themselves."

"Huh," Jim nodded. "You think she'll be okay?"

Sloan smiled and nodded decisively. "Will's got this."

xxx

Outside the bar, Will was opening the door of a cab and ushering Mac into the backseat before climbing in after her.

Mac started to give the cabbie her address.

Will overrode her and gave the man his own.

She turned to face him in shock. "Will?"

He sighed. He supposed they hadn't actually discussed his plans. Still, he was pretty sure it would be best for everyone concerned. "I'm taking you back to my place."

Well, she'd gathered that, but she wasn't sure it was the best idea right now. "Will..."

"Look, I don't really want to leave you alone," he explained, determined to justify himself. "I... just in case you want to talk about it. I'm not trying to take advantage. I'm not going to seduce you. I have a spare bedroom. I'm sure we can figure out something for you to sleep in. Tomorrow morning you can figure out how you want to get to your Dad, or whatever it is you decide to do, but in the meantime, you can sleep in my spare room."

Mac wasn't entirely sure if she was disappointed by that arrangement or not. Like most things between them, her feelings feel somewhere in the middle. "Billy..."

"Do you want to be alone?" he asked gently.

The answer hit her like a brick. No. Oh, God no. She really didn't want him to leave. Not yet. Not for a little while longer. She shook her head.

"Okay then," Will muttered, settling back on the seat and staring out the window.

Mac watched him for a moment before turning to stare out her own window. She shut her eyes and tried to make sense of her whirling thoughts. Alcohol probably hadn't been the smartest idea she'd ever had, but she'd just thought that maybe a drink with her coworkers might... distract her a little bit. She should have just gone quietly and sensibly back home after the show. Then she wouldn't have broken down in front of her staff. And she wouldn't have made Will feel like he had to come and rescue her and...

Mac paused.

She supposed she hadn't forced Will into anything. He'd seemed willing (pun not intended).

And... if they were trying to be friends... Oh god. She wasn't up to sorting any of this out right now. She could only hope that he didn't mind his unexpected houseguest.

She really wanted him not to mind. She really wanted...

The feeling of fingers twining through hers made her gasp softly in the quiet cab. Mac glanced down at his hand holding hers before meeting his eyes.

"It'll be okay, Mac," Will said softly.

She sent him a watery smile before tightening her grip. Then she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.

xxx

"You took her back to your place?" Habib asked curiously.

"She'd just heard that her father was sick! She was scared!" Will reminded his therapist. "I figured she probably shouldn't be alone, okay?"

"Why?" Habib asked.

"Why?" Will demanded. He would have thought the answer to that question was obvious. "Because it's not fun to go through that alone. When my mother died a friend of mine sat with me. And anyway, I _know_ Mac. I know _exactly_ what she'd do. She'd fidget around her apartment for hours, worry herself half to death and get no sleep. And she'd somehow blame herself for god knows what. I _know_ her."

"And what exactly could you do about any of those things?" Habib asked curiously.

"I could make sure she ate something a least," Will grumbled. "Or y'know, tried to sleep."

"Those are both good things," Habib assured the man across from him.

"I know that! And I've actually _met_ Mac's father, you know. I've spoken to the man. We've spent time together. Not recently of course, but..."

"You know him," Habib summarized, cutting off Will's digression.

"Yes," Will confirmed. "So, y'know, if letting his daughter sleep in my spare bedroom helps the situation..."

"Then that's what you're going to do?" Habib guessed.

"Exactly," Will said with a nod.

"Okay, but you've left out one key thing in that description," Habib felt the need to point out.

"And what's that?" Will asked sarcastically.

Habib smiled. The answer was obvious. "That you wanted to take care of her."

Will paused. So what if he had? "It was just... she looked almost _fragile._"

xxx

Mac was quiet as they pulled up in front of Will's building. She waited for him to pay the cabbie and let him lead her inside. Both of them were feeling awkward and trying to ignore it. Will in fact was determined to.

Mac was looking around the familiar surroundings and trying very hard not to think about how it was the first time she'd been inside the building alone with Will in about five years.

"Can I get your coat?" Will asked softly, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She straightened her spine and ordered herself to get it together. Will may have kindly offered her a quiet place to sit and spend the night, but that didn't mean he was up for dealing with an emotional wreck of a woman. She shrugged her coat off into his waiting hands, and wrapped her arms around herself. She didn't know why she was so cold. It was certainly a normal temperature in Will's condo. At least, she could only assume it was. He could certainly afford to heat the place.

She felt his hand on the small of her back a second later. She turned to thank him for letting her stay, for getting her out of the bar, for any number of things. Mostly for being _him_. But none of the words seemed to want to come out.

Instead, he spoke first. "Do you want to change into something more comfortable?"

Mac raised an eyebrow.

Will was glad to see the ghost of the smile on her face, even if it made him shake his head. "That's not what I meant, Mackenzie," he assured her. "I meant, if you want to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants or something from my bedroom..."

Mac glanced down at the blouse and skirt she'd chosen to wear to work that morning. Changing into something a little cosier seemed like a good idea all of a sudden. And anyway, it wasn't like it mattered what she looked like right now.

"You don't mind?" she asked tentatively.

Will decided to ignore the question. "Grab whatever you want from the bedroom," he told her. He also decided not to point out that she'd know where everything was. That seemed like a bad idea. Things may have been getting better between them, but they'd yet to broach the subject of what had happened two years ago. He sure as hell wasn't going to bring it up tonight.

"I'll just be a minute," Mac assured him.

"Take as long as you want," Will replied easily. "I'll make us some tea."

Mac almost laughed. "Tea?"

Will shrugged. "Don't have to be English to appreciate the soothing properties of a cup of camomile."

"I'm not English," Mac reminded him.

He smiled. "I know that, Mac."

"Yeah."

"But you lived there for a while, and I'm pretty sure you drank your fair share of the stuff," Will pointed out.

"I'll see you in a minute," was all she said in response.

xxx

Quite frankly, Will was pretty impressed with how he was dealing with the whole having Mac in his home again. The fact that she was scared out of her mind because of her father helped with that, he had to admit.

As did the fact that since they'd gotten out of the cab, she'd made no move to initiate physical contact of any kind. Not that he was looking for... Oh hell. It was an awkward situation. Maybe it was time to stop ignoring that and just go with it.

Things between them were going to be awkward. Didn't mean he couldn't try and support her, in some capacity. She was his EP. And he was the one she'd chosen to come home with after all. Although, he'd also been the only one who'd offered, but who else was going to sit with her tonight? Sloan?

Will shuddered at the thought. Sloan would have the best intentions, her heart would be in the right place, but he knew very well that she wouldn't have the first idea what to do with a teary Mackenzie McHale.

_And you do?_ A highly skeptical voice in his head asked him.

Will tried to ignore that voice. Instead he concentrated on brewing the tea, and not the woman in the next room.

Who chose that exact moment to make a reappearance.

Will turned towards her, about to offer her a cup of tea. Then his brain stalled when he saw her.

She was wearing a pair of plaid flannel pants that looked to be about five sizes too big for her along with one of his old college sweatshirts. She'd also tied her hair back into a ponytail and her feet were bare. She was wearing his clothing. In his apartment.

Oh fuck.

xxx

Mac was trying not to snuggle too obviously into the sweatshirt she'd found in the back of Will's drawer. It was soft and she could still catch just a hint of his cologne. She was sure she looked absolutely ridiculous, but she was trying not to care about that. She'd craved the comfort and was already feeling warmer. Anyway, he'd seen her in less flattering outfits, she was sure. At least she'd washed her face so she didn't have to worry about her makeup running everywhere. She was hoping to get through the evening without any more tears, but she figured that was probably unlikely.

She smiled softly when she saw Will. It might have been a cliché, but the cup of tea he was holding out to her sounded like a really good idea all of a sudden. She padded across his kitchen floor to take it from him, leaning just slightly into his personal space.

"What can I do?" he asked softly, looking desperately at the woman next o him. "Tell me what I can do."

The question made her smile. Her fingers tightened reflexively around her mug. He was such a good man. His question gave her that little extra bit of courage, told her that maybe he really wouldn't mind. She let herself shift the extra few inches until she was leaning against his shoulder, pleased when his arm dropped around her waist.

"This," she murmured, taking a sip of her tea and closing her eyes. It had been so long since she'd let anyone hold her when she was upset. "You can do this."

xxx

TBC

So yeah, next chapter is going to pick up immediately after no one worry. It's just, as I said above, this whole scene/section was getting insanely long and had to be split.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: And here we go, the second half of this little section. It's not quite done, but mostly, and I realized I can't finish it in this chapter. Anyway, I like this one. I feel like it explains (in a really convoluted way) one half of why I really like the two of them as a couple. (The other half should come later, if I do this right.) Anyway, I hope you like it! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed. I haven't had time to reply to them all yet. I also probably won't have time for another chapter this week, so I hope you enjoy this one.

xxx

Chapter 5

xxx

_Previously on The Newsroom..._

_"What can I do?" he asked softly, looking desperately at the woman next o him. "Tell me what I can do."_

_The question made her smile. Her fingers tightened reflexively around her mug. He was such a good man. His question gave her that little extra bit of courage, told her that maybe he really wouldn't mind. She let herself shift the extra few inches until she was leaning against his shoulder, pleased when his arm dropped around her waist._

_"This," she murmured, taking a sip of her tea and closing her eyes. It had been so long since she'd let anyone hold her when she was upset. "You can do this."_

xxx

Will found himself stroking her hip with one hand as he sipped his tea with the other. He glanced down at the woman leaning against his side. Mac was cradling her cup with both hands like she was trying to absorb its warmth as possible. Her eyes were still shut, but she actually looked calm for the first time in hours.

Will wondered how long it would last.

He was surprised when at least a minute passed and she still hadn't moved, not even to sip her tea.

He was about to suggest moving to the couch when she spoke.

"You know, you don't have to stand here with me if you don't want to," Mac murmured, realizing that she couldn't realistically expect to monopolize Will's entire evening.

Will resisted the urge to poke her. "Does it feel like I mind standing here?"

Mac regretfully lifted her head off his shoulder and looked up at him. "No, but it's enough that you've offered me a spare room..."

"So you wouldn't have to be alone and worried," Will reminded her slowly. "If I planned on shoving you in my spare room, shutting the door, and leaving you to your own devices, I may as well have dropped you off at your own apartment. At least then you'd have your own stuff around you."

"You made me tea," Mac reminded him tentatively.

Will rolled his eyes. Yeah, he was a prince for making her boiling her some water and pouring it into then out of a pot. "Oh well then, clearly it's time for the spare room for you."

"Will..." she said with half a laugh.

"How about we compromise and try the couch instead?" he suggested with a hint of a smile of his own.

Mac frowned. "How is that a compromise?"

"Well, you seem to think that I don't want to stand with you in the kitchen," Will reminded her. "That would not be standing in the kitchen. "

"Actually, I said that you don't _have_ to stand with me in the kitchen," Mac replied.

"What's the difference?" WIll asked.

Mac found she was far too mixed up to figure that out. She groaned.

Will took the opportunity to guide her to the coach. Truthfully, it had been a pretty long day and he wouldn't mind sitting down.

He decided to give her a little bit of space and sat down on the opposite end of the couch from her.

"So what happened, Mackenzie?" he asked gently, suddenly realizing that he didn't even know the whole story. All he'd heard was her somewhat disjointed version in the bar.

She sighed, curling her legs underneath herself. "My Dad was having chest pains, severe chest pains, so he went to the hospital last night."

"They were worried about a heart attack?" Will asked.

Mac nodded, taking a sip of her tea. It should be cool enough to drink by now. "Particularly with his history. I mean, it's been a concern in the past. The doctors managed to head it off, or I don't know, get it under control somehow."

"Well, that sounds good," Will said, angling himself towards her.

"That's what my parents are saying at least. In between assuring me not to worry. But if it's really no big deal, why is he still in the hospital?" she demanded.

Will tried to soothe. He knew she knew it all already, but it might help to hear it from someone else. "They probably just want to keep him there for observation for a day or so, just to make sure things stay under control."

"That's _exactly_ what my mother said," Mackenzie grumbled. "That and they just want to check a couple of things out."

Will leaned forward. "With your father's history, it's not an entirely implausible answer, Mac."

"I _know!"_ Mac growled in frustration.

"Okay."

He watched as her eyes lost their fire and turned sad. "But what if it turns into something?" she asked.

"Then right now he's in the place where he'll get the best care possible," Will reminded her (reminding himself not to shift closer, not to crowd her).

"Stop being so reasonable," Mac muttered, taking a drink of her tea. He'd always done this. When she was upset and her brain was whirling so fast it felt like she'd never be able stop it, Will would simply point out the practicalities, calmly, quietly, rationally, forcing her to acknowledge them.

"No," Will replied calmly.

She tried to glare at him, but it didn't quite work. "Then stop trying to make me feel better."

"No."

Mac thought she saw a bit of a smile that time. God she'd missed him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Will replied, pleased to see she was looking a bit calmer again. Sometimes when she got that wild look in her eyes, well, that look could be dangerous. To anyone around her, but mostly to Mac herself. And it made Will want to soothe her a little, particularly when the cause was something like this. He took a sip of his tea instead.

Mac bit her lip. "Will?"

"Yes?"

"What if they're lying to me because they don't want me to worry, or because my Dad doesn't want to look weak or something?" Her parents were always telling her not to worry, downplaying everything. Now Mac was worried that they might not tell her if they really did need her.

Will considered the question. "What if it's really worse than they're telling you, you mean?"

"Yeah."

Will found that unlikely. Her parents were lovely people, and they were probably trying to reduce their only daughter's worry. Still, Will highly doubted they'd go so far as to lie to her to that degree. "Do you really think they'd lie to you about something this serious?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," Mac admitted.

Well, she'd certainly covered all of the bases. "Good answer."

That Mac her glare. "Now see here, Mister. I'm willing to admit that I might not be in the most rational mood right now..."

Will looked incredulous. "_Might?"_

"But my Dad's..." Mac trailed off before she had to say it. Her voice was already catching as it was. "And he doesn't want me there."

Will frowned, shifting a little closer. "When did he say that?"

"He told me not to come," Mac replied. "I offered. More than once. And he said that I didn't need to."

Will sighed. They were quite a pair, father and daughter. Both of them probably trying to bend over backwards, trying to make things easier for the other one. "Need isn't the same as want, Mackenzie."

Mac was silent.

"Why don't you go out there anyway?" Will asked.

Mac paused. "You think?"

He nodded. "Take a long weekend. Go, see your Dad. I assume your parents are still in Virginia?" Will continued after Mac confirmed. "That's not _that_ far. You could easily get there and back over a weekend, even without taking a couple of extra days."

She _had_ been thinking about doing just that, but with the show, and with her parents trying to dissuade her. "I..."

"You'll feel better once you see him," Will reminded her gently.

Mac leaned back against the couch. "I don't know." But even she knew she wanted him to convince her.

"Think about it," Will coaxed, well aware that she just needed a little push. "I bet you could fly out tomorrow morning. Or, if you prefer, you can take the train."

"You think?" Mac wondered. She had always liked the train. Flying was usually faster, but the train was so much less hassle. You really didn't have to do anything other than get on it and sit. Maybe she should consider going down for a few days.

"It'll be easy. You could get your ticket right now. There's this wonderful thing that they have now called the internet." Will replied. "Sampat's been telling me all about it."

Mac laughed. "When he's not talking about Bigfoot."

"Hey, that wasn't a bad presentation, in the end, "Will told her.

"You know," Mac replied. "I never actually saw it."

"I'm sure he'd be more than happy to share it with you," Will assured her.

"I'm sure he would," Mac said dryly. "I'll be back in a minute," she said, heading to the washroom.

Will watched her go, wondering why the stubborn woman wouldn't just take what she wanted. It was ridiculously obvious what that was.

That was when he got an idea.

xxx

Will was on his computer when Mac got back.

"What're you doing?" she asked. "Did something happen?"

"There's no breaking news," he assured her with a couple clicks of his mouth.

"So what..."

"I'm buying you a train ticket for tomorrow morning," Will informed her calmly, mentally bracing himself for the argument.

"Will!" Mac snapped. Sure, that was pretty much what she'd decided to do in the washroom, but _she'd_ been going to do it. Herself. He didn't need...

Will looked up at her. "It's a good idea. It'll work out perfectly, you can..."

"No, Will!" Mac interrupted. "You can't just..."

"Sure I can." He hit a few keys with a flourish. "In fact I just did."

Mac gaped at him in shock. "Will!"

"It's not like I flew you first class or anything..." Will grumbled, justifying his choice. "I figure you'd object to that, call it overly extravagant or something."

"Yes, I would have!" Mac replied. "And I'm objecting to this." She wasn't sure why she was suddenly so shaky. He wasn't supposed to do things like this for her. He wasn't supposed to...

"Why?" Will asked, doing his best to appear calm.

Mac took a deep breath. "I can't accept..."

_"Yes, you can,"_ Will insisted. It really wasn't that big a deal. Why was she making it a big deal. If she'd just smiled and said thank you then they wouldn't have to... do this.

Mac felt tears pricking in her eyes again. "Will..."

"Oh what?" he asked, reverting to sarcasm rather than really explain himself. "Like the price of the ticket's really gonna set me back."

She knew that. "That's not the point!"

"Please," Will pleaded softly.

It was his tone that stopped her. "What?"

"Please let me do this for you. It's..."

Mac's voice gentled. "It's what?"

"It's the only thing I can do!" Will snapped.

Mac looked as shocked as he felt.

"Please, just take the damn train ticket Mackenzie," Will said, lowering his voice.

xxx

"What did you mean when you said it was the only thing you could do?" Habib asked, interrupting the story for the first time in almost fifteen minutes.

The question jolted Will out of himself. Truthfully, he'd almost forgotten his psychiatrist was even there. He'd been lost in the memory.

Will shifted in his chair. "Well, what else am I going to do?" he asked.

Habib resisted the urge to roll his eyes "It sounds like you sat with Mackenzie all evening when she was upset. You let her stay in your home. You made her tea. I'm guessing breakfast too."

"That was more of a joint effort," Will muttered. "Though I guess it was my food."

"That's not nothing, Will," Habib pointed out.

"I guess, but I can't..." Will trailed off.

"You can't what?" Habib asked.

"Nevermind," Will muttered.

"You can't magically fix Mac's father's heart problem?" Habib guessed.

Will laughed a little cynically. He supposed he couldn't do that either. "I _definitely _can't do that."

There were a lot of things he couldn't do anymore. Even just as Mac's friend, because of the goddamn mess from five years ago.

There were a lot of things he no longer had.

He'd known all along that he could only buy the single ticket.

"Anyway," he said changing the subject. "The train ticket itself was almost a moot point. Mac was determined to be difficult."

xxx

Will thought he'd actually won the argument, until she started coming at him from another direction. "You know, it's going to be a really quick trip."

Will didn't see why that was such a big problem. "So take another few days."

"I can't!" Mac insisted.

"Why not?" Will asked calmly.

"Well, there's the show..." Mac started to say.

Will interrupted her. "Which can't possibly function without you for a few days, or god forbid, even a week. Jim will completely fall apart. I'll forget what news even _is_. You'll probably come back to find _Reese Lansing_ in charge."

Mac was forced to admit that she was being a little ridiculous. "Well, maybe Don."

"Actually, Don wouldn't be so bad," Will replied, pretending to consider it.

"Do you want to discuss youtube videos on air again?" Mac asked him.

Will stopped pretending to consider rehiring his former EP. "No. But he might not bring that back."

"Not in three days anyway," Mac replied sensibly.

"Which pretty much proves my point," Will told her.

Mac sighed, really not sure why she was arguing, why she so often felt the need to argue with him. Like she was trying to prove something. "Will..."

"Tell you what?" Will asked, a flash of inspiration suddenly striking him. "Why don't we call Charlie? Ask him his opinion."

Mac winced. "Will..."

"Yeah! It'll be great!" Will replied, really warming to the idea. He could just imagine how that would go. "We'll call him up. You can do it, or I can, if you don't want to. I can see it now. _Hi Charlie, it's Will. Sorry to call you too late, but Mac's just found out that her father's having heart problems and is in the hospital. I don't think it's life-threatening, but she's thinking about going for a couple of days and..._ Actually, you know what? This is irrelevant, because I don't even think I'd make to that sentence in the explnanation, because Charlie'd have already yelled: _What the hell are you calling me for! Tell her to get her ass to Virginia! And take as much time as she wants. Take a week! I don't want to see her stick so much as a toe in the newsroom next week! Tell her to go be with her family! Nobody calls their parents anymore_..." Will paused. "And that's when I imagine the conversation would devolve into something slightly louder and less coherent."

Mac was trying not to laugh. "Will..."

But Will wasn't done. "Then, when he was done talking about ungrateful children, Charlie would go off on some rant about how everyone around ACN seems to think that everything will fall apart if they disappear for a few days, when really he can replace all of us in about sixty seconds."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "I am _not_ that easy to replace."

"No, you're right. It'd probably take us an hour to find another you," Will conceded.

"You'd never find another me," Mac assured him.

Will didn't bother taking the time to agree with her aloud. They both knew it was true, and it was beside the point. "Seriously, you want to call Charlie, see what he says? He'll probably be a little more sympathetic if you make the call, but..."

"No," Mac admitted quickly.

"What?" Will asked.

She sighed. "I'll call him in the morning."

For a second, Will wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said I'd call him in the morning," Mac repeated more loudly. "When I tell him I'm going to need a couple of days off next week."

Well, there was only one conclusion to be made from that. "Because you admit that I'm right."

"I didn't say that," Mac denied stubbornly.

Will shrugged. "It was implied."

"Only because _you_ implied it," Mac insisted.

Will considered her point. "Actually, I pretty much stated it outright."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"They told me not to come," Mac reminded him again. And that still stung a little.

Will set his laptop down carefully, walked over to her and put a comforting hand on her arm. "Because they were trying to make things easier for you, not because your Dad doesn't want to see you."

"I'm still going to have to listen to my mother nag about how I didn't need to go all the way down there for a little twinge in Dad's chest," Mac grumbled. Her mother, god bless her, drove her crazy sometimes. "That's what she'll call it, a twinge. And it won't matter how many tubes my Dad's hooked up to when I arrive, a twinge it shall remain. And she'll sound very reasonable about it all, and..."

"And since when do you listen to mere reason?" Will asked her.

Mac paused; her eyes lit up. "That's a good point. Now why didn't _I..._"

"You'd have realized sooner," Will assured her. "But you're a bit distracted right now."

Mac could only agree. It was nice having him around to notice these things. "I am."

"Yup."

"My parents are the ones being idiots about this." Mac said in realization..

Will barely caught himself from saying that they weren't the only ones. "Uh, sure?"

"No, you're right," Mac said, sounding more cheerful. "I should go there."

"That's why I bought you the ticket," Will agreed.

"I'll pay you back," Mac replied reflexively.

Will shook his head. He didn't want her money. In fact, in this case, he _really_ didn't want her money. And he wouldn't be taking it, no matter what she said. He was damn well doing this _one_ thing for her. "No you won't."

"Will!"

"We can talk about it when you get back," he told her, trying to at least delay the argument. If he was lucky, it could be delayed indefinitely.

"Fine."

He smiled, recognizing that tone in her voice. Well, he could be stubborn too. "Do you want some more tea?" he asked, changing the subject.

Mac noticed her empty mug on an end table. She should probably get some sleep, but she wasn't quite ready yet. "I'd love some."

Will grabbed both mugs and headed back to the kitchen.

"Will?" she called.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"You didn't have to do this," Mac started.

Will tried to interrupt, but she stopped him.

"You didn't have to do this," she said more loudly. "But thank you. Thank you, Billy."

Will walked back towards her and handed her a full mug of tea. "You're welcome, Mackenzie."

"I mean it," she said, smiling at him slightly over her mug.

"I didn't think you should be alone," he replied, trying to blow it off. "That seemed... unnecessary."

Mac smiled. "Well thank you for providing your company," she told him. "I couldn't have done better."

Will admitted he liked the sound of that. He took a sip of his tea.

xxx

"And so, the two of you drank some tea, and then she slept in your spare bedroom?" Habib guessed.

"That's pretty much it," Will agreed.

"And you made breakfast," Habib continued.

"She took care of the coffee, I made some of my favours egg, bacon and cheese sandwiches," Will confirmed.

"And what was that like?" Habib asked.

"Apparently there's quite a few calories in a sandwich with both bacon and cheese," Will said lightly.

Habib chuckled. "You don't say."

"At least, according to Mac," Will replied.

"And how did you feel about sharing your space with Mackenzie again?" Habib asked.

Will glared. "Oh come on, it wasn't even twelve hours. And most of the time we were sleeping, in separate rooms."

"Will..."

"Okay, it was a little strange at times. But mostly it wasn't too bad. I didn't mind having her there." Actually, once Mac had calmed down, it had been almost nice. They'd sat in his living room, drinking tea and talking for a little while, until she got tired. Then he'd suggested sleep. They'd eaten breakfast, and she'd left. That was all.

Okay, she'd given him a hug first, and he'd asked her to call when she arrived with an update.

But that was really all.

"Things weren't painful for you?" Habib asked.

Will scowled. "Alright, I may, _may_ have had some kind of a... thing. Right when I went to bed. But it went away, because I am an adult, and not a teenage girl."

Habib didn't bother pointing out that many teenage girls were more emotionally together than Will seemed to be right now.

"Anyway," Will said. "I spoke to Mac later on Saturday. Her train was a bit delayed, but otherwise she seemed fine. She'd spoken to her father. It sounds like her mother was telling the truth. He was doing a lot better. Of course, Mac sounded a lot better too, since she'd seen him."

"Sometimes people need to see things for themselves," Habib murmured. He certainly understood that.

"Yeah," Will said.

"So, what's it been like in the newsroom without her?" Habib asked curiously.

"It's been different," Will said slowly. "There isn't anyone running around constantly yelling at people to make sure they're telling the story in the best way that they can and demanding to know why something is or isn't newsworthy."

"Backsliding into old habits?" Habib, jokingly.

Will shook his head. "Not quite. Mac would fly back early and kill us all. Between me and Jim, I guess we're doing a decent job trying to keep the level of earnest idealism above the national average, for all that it doesn't come naturally to either of us."

Habib hid his smile. "Everyone's picking up the slack."

Will nodded. "It's a pretty good group, I guess. And even we can handle a couple of days without our EP"

To be honest, the doc wasn't far off. Will _had_ found himself piping up in the rundown meeting demanding people look harder, that they really critically examine the facts and make sure that the story was balanced. He'd studiously ignored Don's comments about it once he realized what was going on.

Will didn't care what Don thought anyway. He'd lost his relationship with Mac's parents when he lost her, and he understood that. He understood that it wasn't his place to be there for Mac any more than he had been that night in his apartment. But it _was_ his job to make damn sure that her newsroom was still waiting for her when she got back. And it was going to be _exactly_ as she'd left it.

Okay, apparently Jim had spilled coffee or something, and now there was a small stain. But other than that...

"Did you hear from Mac about last night's show?" Dr. Habib asked, interrupting Will's thoughts.

"Hm?" Will asked. "Oh, yeah. Of course I did. She called me almost as soon as it was done. Well, actually, I think she called Jim first."

"Then she talked to you?" Habib asked.

Will nodded. It hadn't been a particularly long conversation, but she'd called.

xxx

He knew as soon as the phone rang that it was going to be her.

"Hey," he said grabbing his phone.

"Hey," she replied. "I saw the show."

"I figured," he replied. "How's your Dad."

"He's doing better. They're sending him home tomorrow morning as long as nothing changes," Mac told him.

Will smiled. "That's great Mackenzie."

"Yeah," she whispered. "I think I'll stick around for the day and come back on Wednesday. Maybe come back in time to catch the show from the newsroom."

"You could take the week, you know," he replied.

"Dad has everything he needs right now," she assured him. "I think he finds the constant company tiring. I'll come back for a week when he's feeling a little better."

Will smiled. "Sounds good."

"He asked after you," she said softly.

Will swallowed. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him you were keeping out of trouble," Mac replied. "Well, actually I told him _I_ was keeping you out of trouble."

"Bet he loved that," Will said.

"He did," Mac said cheerfully. "Now tell me about the show."

"You saw it," Will replied. "It was fine. We started the portraits of the members of Congress."

"I saw. They're going well," Mac replied. "Probably a good week to do it too."

"A few minor snags," Will added. "But then there always are. Jim handled them."

"He knows what he's doing," Mac replied.

"You trained him well."

"Thank you. I see I didn't have to worry about you capitulating to the ratings in my absence," Mac observed.

"In one day?" Will asked.

"You never know," she murmured.

"Hey!" Will replied. "The only time I capitulate to the ratings is when we lose _half our audience_. And I think that's fair."

"Actually," Mac said, her voice taking on a singsong quality. "Jim seemed to indicate that you'd almost swung the other way. He said it was like you were trying to make up for a certain someone not being there to keep you in line."

Will winced. He'd have to have a word with Jim about the best way to deal with the Mac situation. Because the way Will figured, the two of them should probably stick together if they wanted to get through this. He decided to try plausible deniability. "I don't know what you were talking about."

"I think you do," Mac said. "Jim said something about a rousing speech on the subject of coming together to fill the enormous hole left by my absence from the newsroom."

"I did not say enormous," Will replied. "I may have mentioned the possibility of a few very tiny hiccups."

"You rallied the troops around the cause!" Mac said gleefully. "You fought the good fight, Billy!" And she was so pleased and proud she felt like she was going to burst.

"Oh, I wasn't that bad," Will grumbled.

"Jim said you mentioned the three I's," Mac shot back.

Alright, he was definitely going to have to have a word with Jim. "It may have slipped out."

To Will's delight, she laughed. "Billy, are you trying to take care of my newsroom for me?"

"It's my newsroom too," he grumbled.

He heard Mac's voice soften into affection. "Billy..."

He sighed. "I just didn't want you to worry about it while you're gone."

"Jim can take care of things," she reminded him, hugging herself, trying not to smile too wide. "He's good at his job."

"I know that. I just wanted to... do something," Will admitted.

To his surprise, Mac didn't tell him that he didn't have to. "Thank you."

"Anyway, you don't have to worry about us covering whatever Jennifer Aniston's doing that seems to get her so consistently on the cover of all the tabloids," Will assured her lightly.

"I wasn't worried," she assured him sounding... happy.

"Okay," Will said simply.

"And thank you for the flowers."

xxx

Habib interrupted. "The flowers? You sent her father flowers?"

"_I_ sent her father a bottle of whiskey," Will corrected. "_The newsroom_ sent flowers. I think Jim organized it."

"So why was she thanking you?" Habib asked.

"How would I know why Mackenzie does anything?" Will asked.

Dr. Habib just looked at him.

Will sighed. "Okay, I may have had a little to do with it."

xxx

Just after noon on Monday, when everyone was busy prepping for their first show without Mac, Will stopped by Jim's desk. He handed the senior producer a slip of paper with an address on it.

Jim took it, a question in his eyes.

"It's the address of Mac's Dad's hospital room," Will told him, offering no explanation of how he'd gotten hold of that information

Jim looked at the paper again, obviously not knowing why he was being given said information.

Will sighed. "Don't you think, it would be nice if Mr. McHale got something from the newsroom his daughter runs?"

He saw something click in Jim's brain immediately. "Yeah, I thought about that. I was wondering if we should send it to her parents house, or..."

Will shook his head. No one would be at her parents house to get them for most of the day. And the point was to send them to Mac's father.

Jim nodded. "Right. Got it. Do you want to..."

Will shook his head. "I didn't have anything to do with this. This came from..."

"From the people Mac's been training for two years," Jim filled in. "From the newsroom."

Will nodded.

"I'm on it," Jim assured him.

"It was your idea," Will replied, turning back to his office.

"Hey, have you talked to her today?" Jim called after him.

Will turned. "Yeah," he admitted. "Just for a minute. She called to check in. She sounded... better."

Jim nodded. "Yeah, I called last night."

Will glared. Mac had enough on her plate without worrying about...

Jim held up his hands. "Not to talk about work, though she tried. Just to tell her not to worry, because I'd, well, we'd take care of everything."

Will nodded; he sometimes forgot how close Jim and Mac actually were. Of course the younger man had called her to promise that he'd take care of everything. Will could understand that. "Okay."

"Okay." Jim held up the piece of paper. "And I'll get on this."

This time Will was able to make it back to his office without interruption.

xxx

"It sounds like you managed to do a quite a lot for Mackenzie, for someone who thinks he did nothing," Habib observed

"I told Jim to send flowers," Will replied.

"Yes, you did," Habib replied. "That was very thoughtful."

"Jim's a good senior producer, but he'd have never thought of that. He forgot when Valentines day was one year." Will added. "And I knew Mac would like it."

"It sounds like she did,' Dr. Habib agreed. It also sounded like Mac had seen right through him.

"But I couldn't..." Will paused.

Habib leaned forward. They'd been circling around this for a while now, and he was going to press this time. "Couldn't what?"

"I couldn't call Mac's father and tell him that I hope he feels better soon, and that I'm sure he will. I couldn't tell him that he needed to get back on his feet, because the world probably needs a few people like him around still, even if his thoughts on foreign policy are more than a little suspect. I couldn't go see him in the hospital. I couldn't sit with Mac on the train. I couldn't tell her father that all he needed to do right now was worry about getting better. That he didn't have to worry about his daughter, that I'd stop her from actually self-combusting in concern. I couldn't do any of that," Will exploded.

"Will," Habib said softly.

"I just wanted to tell him that Mac has lots of friends in New York, that... that people will support her," Will muttered.

"You wanted to look after her," Habib said softly.

"Yes," Will muttered, staring at the ground.

"To protect her," Habib clarified.

Will avoided his eyes.

"You want to be able to protect Mackenzie," Habib repeated. It was a common theme with Will, feeling like he had to protect those he loved.

"Mackenzie doesn't _need_ my protection," Will muttered. And even if she did, she sure as hell wouldn't _want _it. "The woman's tough, underneath all her well, being nuts."

"She might like it though," Habib suggested. "Sometimes. It sounds like she liked it on the weekend."

Will didn't answer. After all, she'd been pretty screwed up over the weekend, and she'd still put up a decent fight, mostly born out of sheer stubbornness, but still.

"It's okay to care about Mackenzie, Will," Habib assured him.

"I know that!" Will demanded.

"Do you?" Habib asked.

"Yes," Will assured the other man. "It's just, sometimes when she's there. It's complicated."

"Yes it is," Habib agreed. "That's life. But it can't always be complicated."

"No," Will replied. "I guess it's not."

"Will?" Habib asked. "How did you feel about Mac spending the night at your place."

He sighed. "I didn't want to protect her," he muttered.

Habib frowned. "What?"

"I didn't want to protect her," Will repeated. "Okay, I guess I did. But that wasn't... That wasn't why..."

"Will?"

"I wanted to take care of her," Will said softly. So softly Habib almost didn't hear it.

Habib shut his eyes briefly. He should have known. "That's normal too," Jack assured the man sitting across from him. However this ended up, he knew Will was always going to care about Mackenzie, on some level."

"It was nice," Will said. "Having someone there."

"When was the last time you had someone to take care of?" Habib asked.

Will just stared at him.

"Ah," Habib replied. He'd suspected as much. He knew Will had gone on dates in the last five years, and there'd been a short-lived relationship that hadn't lasted. But it didn't surprise Jack in the least that there'd been no one significant in half a decade.

Will was lost in his own thoughts again. His mind jumped from surreptitiously organizing flower arrangements from other people to trying to ensure there was nothing for her to worry about in the newsroom to... To Mackenzie's head drooping on his shoulder when she finally gave in to exhaustion on his couch and he had to send her to bed.

He really hadn't minded having her in his apartment at all.

It'd been so long since he had someone to take care of, even if only for a little while.

xxx

TBC


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Hello. Sorry, this one took a little longer to write than I was expecting. I got a little bit of writer's block. Still trying to work out the exact sequence of events in my head and how I want things to work. I'm hoping I've worked through some of it. And I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 6

xxx

Will was looking much more relaxed when he walked into Dr. Habib's office the next week.

"How are you, Will?" the doctor asked.

"Oh, can't complain," Will replied.

"That's good," Habib replied.

Will paused. "Although, political ideologies in this country continue to become increasingly polarized, so I suppose I could complain about that. And I suppose when I consider how less and less frequently those in power are held accountable..."

"How about we stick to topics at a more personal level for the time being," Habib suggested, interrupting the man sitting down across from him before he could launch into a litany of everything that was generally wrong with the world.

"Sure," Will replied.

Habib resisted a sigh. He decided it was up to him to start this week's conversation if he was hoping for something even remotely meaningful. "How've you been sleeping?"

"Fine," Will replied. with a small frown. "Why do you ask?"

"I know insomnia's been a problem in the past. I thought I'd check in," Habib explained.

"It's fine," Will assured him. "No more bacon before bed."

"Good," Habib nodded. "And work? How's that going? Any increased stress there?"

Will shook his head. "No more than usual. Haven't even gotten any death threats in the last few months."

"Well, that's... good," Habib muttered.

"Mac's back," Will added.

Habib always found volunteered information to be some of the most interesting. Though in this case, it wasn't a particularly surprising topic. "From visiting her parents?" Habib checked.

Will nodded. "She got back Thursday morning."

"So she's been back for a few days," Habib surmised.

"Yup," Will confirmed.

"And everything's going well there?" Jack asked.

"Far as I know," Will said.

"Yet you brought it up," Habib pointed out.

Will shrugged. "It's been a pretty quiet week. It was the first thing that came to mind. Unless you want to talk about my eating habits some more."

"Do you want to talk about your eating habits?" Habib checked.

"No."

This time Habib did sigh. "So what happened when Mac got back?"

Will smirked. "Well Jack, first she walked into the newsroom..."

"Will," Habib said, unimpressed.

Wil tried to look innocent. "What? That's what happened."

"You were the one who suggested we talk about this," Habib reminded him.

Will sighed. "She got back early on Thursday. She said she might come by on Wednesday night, but she didn't get back to town in time. But she was in bright an early on Thursday."

xxx

The small commotion in the newsroom the next morning wasn't unexpected.

Will glanced up from his desk, then, realizing that the blinds were partially obscuring his view, he wandered over to the window to get a better look. He grinned. It appeared that Mackenzie McHale was being slowly mobbed by newsroom staffers. Oh, they were being subtle about it. They were taking turns in approaching her, but there was a circle of smiling young people around her.

Jim was on her right, and Mac had a hand on his shoulder as she talked to the assembled group. Then the hugs and shoulder-patting started. Mac was smiling, obviously pleased to see her little newsroom family. Will decided it was probably time for him to go say hi; he waited for things to die down a bit before he made an appearance.

Mac caught sight of him as he was walking across the newsroom. He thought her smile might have gotten a little bit wider.

Will fought to keep his own expression neutral. "You're back."

Mac's smile didn't fade. If anything it turned sweeter. "I am. Did you miss me?"

"Barely noticed you were gone," Will replied quickly. "Well, except that the newsroom was quieter."

Instead of looking hurt (as she might have only weeks earlier), Mac continued to smile. "Quieter because everyone was so depressed by my absence."

Will almost smiled then. He caught himself just in time. "Yeah, that _must_ have been the reason."

"You were all pining away," Mac summarized airily.

"Seriously, there was no voice chattering in my ear for days…" Will explained.

But Mac was ignoring him, far too pleased with her own version of events. "You were completely despondent."

"No one scolded me," Will remembered fondly.

Mac continued to take a different view of things. "You practically fell apart."

"No one completely ignored the ratings, or our competition," Will said, adding to his own story.

"Or you would have," his executive producer conceded. "If it hadn't been for Jim."

Will watched as she patted her senior producer's shoulder fondly. He decided he'd teased her enough for the time being. "Are you done?"

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Are you?"

Will smirked slightly. "Maybe."

"Okay," Mac agreed easily.

Will took a step towards her, putting his hands in his pockets. "Your Dad's back at home?" he double-checked.

"Yes," Mac confirmed. "Right on schedule."

"And he's still doing alright?" Will pressed, despite the fact that she'd probably answered the question at least a dozen times in the last five minutes.

She didn't seem to mind answering it again though. "Yes."

"Good," Will nodded.

"Yes, it is," Mac agreed, still smiling at him.

He held her eyes. "Welcome back Mackenzie."

They stood facing each other awkwardly for a moment.

"Oh for Christ's sakes!" Charlie said, walking into the newsroom. "Give her a hug, would ya?"

A ripple of laughter ran through the room. Will rolled his eyes, but stepped forward, wrapping his arms lightly around his EP's waist. He supposed he _should_ welcome her back properly.

He felt Mackenzie's head drop onto his shoulder as her arms tightened around him.

"Thank you," she murmured. She'd thought about him while she'd been visiting her parents. Couldn't help herself. Not after he'd been so wonderful to her before she'd left. And now that she was back, he was teasing her. In a nice way. In the way that he'd used... She'd missed this.

Will didn't ask what she was thanking him for. He didn't really care what she felt she needed to thank him for. He just held on for a second before releasing her.

Luckily, before he could say anything stupid to disrupt the peace between them, Charlie walked up to claim Mac's attention. "Mackenzie," he murmured, kissing her on the cheek. "It's good to have you back. It wasn't the same without you, in spite of what _some people_ say."

Will rolled his eyes. He should have known whose side Charlie would take.

Mac stifled a giggle. "Thank you, Charlie," she said.

"You'll give your father my best?" he asked.

"I will," Mac assured him.

"Good," Charlie replied. "You're ready to do the news!"

"I'm more than ready, sir," Mac assured him.

Charlie beamed at her before inquiring into some of the details of her father's condition.

Will caught her eye briefly before heading back to his office. After the rush of welcoming was over, if she wanted to talk to him, she knew where to find him.

He was glad things had worked out with her dad. He was glad she was back.

She looked good.

xxx

"How did seeing Mackenzie walk into the newsroom make you feel?" Habib asked him.

Will looked up, confused. "I was glad she was back, glad her father was doing better. What else?"

Habib leaned forward. The answer was interesting. "It didn't bring up any memories?"

Will frowned. "Like what?"

"Like the first time she walked into that same newsroom two years ago?" Habib suggested. "After another absence."

"Oh, that's ridiculous," Will scoffed.

"Is it?" Jack asked.

"Yes!" Will insisted. "First of all, last time I hadn't seen her in _three years_. This time it was _five days_. I mean, sure, we finally replaced the coffee maker in the kitchen, but other than that, not much has changed. Second of all, last time I had barely any notice that she was coming. And no one had asked me anything about it. This time, her arrival was completely expected. She'd sent me an e-mail the night before telling me that her train was delayed so she wasn't going to make it to the newsroom until the next morning. I _knew_ she was coming. Completely different."

"Okay," Habib agreed easily.

"Plus she belongs there now," Will added.

Habib hid his smile. "Oh?"

Will mentally cursed. He hadn't meant to say _that_. "Of course she does," he said with an irritated wave of his hand. "It's her newsroom."

"Her newsroom?" Habib repeated.

"She is the executive producer," Will said dryly. He might have fought her originally, still did sometimes, when her ideas were particularly insane. But she did fit. He was glad she'd come. He paused. He was glad she'd come.

Well, of course he was. Obviously he was.

He just didn't think he'd admitted that to himself so directly before.

He glanced back at Habib, who was trying not to look superior.

Will scowled.

To his surprise, his psychiatrist turned the subject back to the story. "So, did Mac come and find you later?" he asked.

"Yeah," Will admitted. "She had a couple of things she wanted to talk about."

xxx

About half an hour later, Mac strolled into his office, interrupting him while he was pretending to work.

"You managed to escape the mob?" Will asked.

"I swear, half the newsroom had something they wanted to show me," Mac replied.

Will nodded, deciding not to comment on how obviously pleased she was by that fact. If she'd meant it to come out as a complaint, she'd failed miserably. Mac loved her little flock of employees. "They wanted you to be proud of them."

"I _am_ proud of them," Mac replied emphatically.

"I know," Will assured her.

"You did a good job," Mac said softly.

"I know this might surprise you, Mackenzie. But I do know how to do a show without you," Will reminded her.

"That's not what I mean," Mac replied. "I meant you did a good job with them. Half of them had a story to tell about how you kept everything running smoothly and tried to consider what you assumed would be my opinion."

"I told you I was in," Will defended self-consciously. "This is my show too."

"Our show,' Mac correctly.

He met her eyes. "Our show."

"Okay."

Will swallowed. And changed the subject. "You decided not to drop into the newsroom last night?" he asked.

Mac shrugged. She'd meant to, but fate had intervened. "My train was delayed."

"Ah," Will said.

Mac tilted her head to the side. She'd told him as much in her e-mail the night before, so why had he brought it up? Suddenly an odd thought struck her. "You _did_ miss me."

Will was startled by the observation. "What?"

His reaction told her she'd guessed right. Her smile lit up her face. She sidled over to him. "You did."

Will tried very hard not to panic. There was no reason to. Even if he _had_ missed her, it was no big deal. She was his friend. He was used to seeing her practically every day. Missing her was normal. "Mac…"

"Come on Billy, just admit it. You missed me," Mac pressed, her tone wheedling.

"I told you..." Will said, searching for bravado.

"You barely noticed I was gone," Mac replied. "Except for the part where you e-mailed me almost every day."

"Just to keep you in the loop," Will insisted.

"Right," she murmured.

He shrugged, glancing down. "I like your voice in my ear more than Jim's." There. That was the truth, or part of it. She'd like that. And her voice in his head really was preferable than Jim's. No offense to Jim, but Mac had a way of soothing him before he got flustered, of ordering him back on track, of stopping him before he hit a guest too hard (most of the time), of gently, and quietly, telling him exactly what fact he needed to hear at exactly the right moment.

Mac bit her lip. Today was a really good day. She'd forgotten how good homecomings could be (her last hadn't been particularly successful in any way). "I missed you too," she said, so softly Will barely heard her.

He looked up. "I'm glad your Dad's okay," he said gently.

Mac nodded. "Thank you for the flowers."

Will tried to brush it off. "Least I could do was order an arrangement."

Mac smiled, placed her hands on his desk and leaned over him. "I meant the ones from the newsroom."

Will didn't bother asking how she'd guessed. "Those were from..."

Mac didn't want to hear it. "Please. I love Jim, and I'm sure he would have sent flowers to my father if he'd thought of it. But I'm not sure that he would think of it."

"Maybe you're underestimating him," Will suggested. He couldn't help making a mental note of the fact that she'd barely stopped smiling since she'd walked into his office.

"Maybe I'm not," Mac replied easily.

Will tried one more time. "He walked a card around the newsroom, getting everyone to sign it, and then had it couriered."

Mac's smile widened. "Oh, I'm sure once the idea occurred to him, he did it right."

"Mac..."

"Relax, Billy," she said softly. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know that, well, after all you did..."

"I didn't do anything," Will tried to interrupt.

But Mac was firm. "For all you did, well... I appreciate it. I appreciate it all. That's all."

"Whatever," Will muttered, trying to brush it off.

xxx

"Why do you always do that?" Habib asked.

Will frowned. "What?"

"Why does it always make you so uncomfortable when Mackenzie thanks you for things?" Habib asked. "Or is it other people as well?"

"I don't like being thanked," Will admitted quickly. "It's not a big deal. It just, I don't know. It can be awkward."

"Because if you let people thank you, you'd have to acknowledge that you're a good person?" Habib asked.

Will flinched. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you seem to be uncomfortable with people acknowledging your better qualities, beyond maybe your intelligence," Habib pointed out. "Just something I've noticed. Particularly when it's Mackenzie doing the noticing."

"Yeah, because I'm always so nice to Mackenzie," Will grumbled.

"Being a good person doesn't mean being good all the time," Habib reminded him. "No one's that perfect."

"And before she came along, most of my staff left at the drop of the hat because they hated working for me!" Will yelled.

"Will?" Habib asked. Will had never actually mentioned that directly, though Jack had filled in some of the details over time.

"Right after I spoke at the university, before Mac came," Will grumbled. "They left. Apparently I'm an ass."

"That's not necessarily inaccurate," Habib said.

Will glared at him.

"You can be an ass," Habib reminded him. "And you know it, so don't look so offended. It doesn't help that you try to play down every nice thing you do."

"Yeah, well," Will ran a hand through his hair. He still didn't need to see Mackenzie looking at him, shocked because he'd stopped being an asshole for ten minutes.

"And anyway, it sounds like things in the newsroom have changed," Habib reminded him.

"After Mackenzie arrived," Will agreed. Things _had_ changed. She'd changed them. It'd all been her.

Habib frowned. "And you're worried what'll happen if she leaves again?"

Actually, he tried not to think about that. "I think I've proven that I can get along without her."

For a few days, Habib thought. And anyway, while Will _could_ get along without Mackenzie in his life, that situation hadn't exactly seemed ideal, based on Habib senior's filing cabinet of notes on the subject. "You can, but do you want to?" was all he asked.

He was unsurprised when Will didn't answer.

"Was there anything else?" Habib asked him, deciding to leave the question for a while. Some things couldn't be answered right away.

"Hm?" Will asked, lost in his thoughts. _Of course_ he didn't want Mackenzie to disappear from his life tomorrow, but he'd survive if she did.

"Did anything else happen between you and Mackenzie that you wanted to talk about, or was that the end of it?" Habib asked.

"It was almost the end of it," Will admitted.

xxx

"I have something for you." Mackenzie informed him cheerfully, leaning against his desk.

Will paused. Had she bought him some kind of gift as a thank-you? He stood up and walked over to stand next to her. "You didn't need to…"

"I didn't," Mackenzie assured him.

It wasn't the answer he'd been expecting. "What?"

Mac took a breath. "I would like to stress that this is from my mother."

"Okay..." Will said slowly. "Why is that important?".

Mac ignored the question. Walking over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder she rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

Will waited until she'd lowered back down and stepped back before speaking. "That was from your mother?" he asked carefully.

Mac nodded. She hoped he didn't ask her to explain all the details. She may have had a long conversation with her mother over the long weekend. And it was a conversation she certainly wasn't telling him about.

Will wasn't quite sure what to do with that information right now. Probably best to take the gesture at face value. "Okay."

His single-word answer gave Mac a sudden urge to fill the silence. She resisted the urge to clench her hands in nervousness. "She wanted me to thank you for the gift you sent Dad, and well, yeah."

"It was no problem," Will assured Mac gently for what felt like the tenth time.

Mac took a slow breath. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe this was her relationship with Will now. An often rocky, but somehow, underneath it all, affectionate friendship. The idea made her feel braver. "I have something for you from my father as well," she told him cheerfully.

Will smirked, confident that this one wouldn't involve her invading his personal space. "What's that?"

Mac squared off against him. "Hold out your hand," she ordered.

Will did as he was told.

Mac grasped it firmly and shook. When she spoke, her voice was overly gruff (and, Will was amused to discover, not entirely unlike her terrible Groucho Marx impression). "You're almost too smart for your own good, McAvoy, but at least you know your scotch."

Will was reasonably successful in containing his laughter. "Scotch wasn't exactly something I minded learning about."

"I didn't think it was," Mac assured him, dropping his hand. "Still, scotch Will? You sent scotch? To my father who's recovering from a heart problem? Alcohol's off limits right now. And who knows how long the recovery period will be."

"So I was optimistic," Will replied with a casual shrug.

Mac felt herself melting a little. The fact that Will had just _assumed_ that eventually her father would be able to enjoy his gift... "Optimistic's not usually a word I'd use to describe you," she said softly, her voice wavering a little.

"This one seemed like a pretty safe bet," Will told her. Actually, it hadn't been a bet at all, but a deliberate gesture. He knew Mac was worried enough about that as it was. She needed certainty from him. The emotion hidden in her voice told him that.

Mac's smile made it back up to a beam.

Will let himself enjoy it for a moment.

Then her expression turned self-conscious. That was when Will started to worry.

"There's one more thing," Mac admitted, fiddling slightly with her bracelet.

"What's that?" Will asked, telling himself he had no reason to feel nervous. Just because she was obviously plotting something...

Mac mentally steeled herself. She stepped forward again, enjoying his eyes watching her face. She'd always loved being the centre of his world. And he always watched everything around him so _carefully_, even when the rest of him looked calm. Slowly, she placed her hand on his chest and stretched up on her tiptoes. This time her lips landed closer to the corner of his mouth than the centre of his cheek, and lingered longer than what could strictly be called a peck. She pulled back slowly and risked one more glance at his face.

He looked stunned. Stunned and... not entirely unhappy.

And then suddenly she couldn't quite meet his eyes.

Instead, patting his shoulder, she spun quickly and moved to leave the office.

She heard him clear his throat behind her. "Who was that from, then?"

Mac glanced back, a sly smile on her face (she noticed he'd gotten his expression a little more under control). "You're running out of McHale family members Billly. I'm sure you can figure it out."

She opened the door.

"Your cousin Julia?" Will called after her. "How many times do I have to tell her I just don't see it working out between us?"

Mac just laughed as she walked to her own office. But Will couldn't help noticing the extra little swing of her hips as she did it.

xxx

"The rest of the day was fairly straightforward," Will explained to Habib. "Of course, Jim made the mistake of telling Mac about how everyone made sure the rundown meetings went just as she liked them, and that they saved her chair for her until she got back. He had this whole big speech prepared. So of course she got all sniffly and started thanking everyone all over again. I seriously need to give that guy tips on how to deal with her in these situations..." Honestly, most of the time Mac kept it pretty together, but she had an affectionate heart. Start getting all sentimental and she could turn on the waterworks. Which had their place, but Will preferred keeping them out of the newsroom. (Although, it had almost been worth it for Jim's slightly panicked expression when Mac had started sniffling and demanded a tissue.)

"You think she needs to be dealt with?" Habib asked.

Will glared at him. Obviously his idiotic doctor had completely missed the point. "_No!_" he snapped. "That's not what I meant. I just meant that there are ways to say things to her so that she doesn't get overly emotional and start talking about feelings and stuff."

"You don't like talking about feelings?" Habib asked.

"Not in the newsroom," Will grumbled. Truthfully, he wasn't wild about it any time. But he could deal with it in private. Well, sometimes anyway. If he had to. He'd never been one for big emotional displays in public. Mostly Mackenzie wasn't either, to be fair. It was just sometimes, when something big was happening.

"How do you feel about her relationship with Jim?" Habib asked curiously. He wondered if that had something to do with Will's irritation towards the younger man.

Will didn't like where this line of questioning was heading. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Habib knew he'd hit on something. "Nothing."

"Right," Will said skeptically.

"It was a simple question, Will," Habib assured him innocently.

Will called bullshit. "No it wasn't. Almost nothing you ask is a simple question."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "What was this one, then?"

"I'm not sure," Will said slowly. "But it sounded like you were accusing me of..."

"Of?" Habib prompted.

"Of being jealous of Jim!" Will snapped. "Or something else equally insane."

Habib clasped his hands in front of him. "Why is that insane?"

Will stared at the man sitting across from him. "What do you mean why is that insane? It just is! Jim is Mac's senior producer. Of course they're close. It's not like they're..."

Habib hid a smile. "Like they're?"

"Romantically involved or something," Will finished awkwardly.

"No," Habib agreed. "But neither are _you_ and Mackenzie."

Will scowled. "I'm well aware of that."

Everyone who knew them was probably well aware of that, Habib thought wryly. "But you _were_ romantically involved."

"I'm well aware of that too," Will assured the other man.

"It's natural to be... _protective_ of our relationships with people we were once intimate with; working with Mackenzie as you do, it also makes sense that you'd be particularly sensitive to her relationships with other men," Habib said keeping his voice as neutral as possible.

"Oh for Christ's sakes!" Will practically exploded. "Jim and Mackenzie's relationship is a mentorship more than anything else. They're colleagues. Close colleagues, yes. But colleagues nonetheless. They've been through a lot together..." Will trailed off.

"Will?" Habib asked gently.

Will sighed. "It's just, sometimes, on weeks like this last one, I'm reminded of how close they are. It's not always obvious. But sometimes, you can just see how well he knows her. How much she really respects him. I'm not jealous. I think it's great. It's just, I remember..."

Habib leaned forward. "Remember what?"

Will glanced down at the carpet. "That he'll always know things about her I won't, because he was _there_."

"He was there when she was in the Middle East, you mean?" Habib surmised.

"Yes," Will admitted.

The psychiatrist nodded. "That's the sort of experience that really bonds people."

"Yes," Will said again.

Jack leaned back in his chair. "I see."

Will tried to do the same, but didn't manage to look quite as relaxed as he'd hoped. "We know different sides of her, that's all."

"I imagine there's a fair bit of overlap," Habib assured the man across from him.

Will laughed quietly. There certainly was. "Yeah."

And Habib realized something else. "_That's_ why you want to talk to Jim about how to 'handle' Mackenzie. It's not actually to handle her, but to..."

"Handle was the wrong word," Will admitted. He hadn't really expected a casual statement to be picked apart like this. "I just figured, between the two of us..."

"Between the two of you, you might be able to figure out a way to make things a little easier for her when she's upset," Habib suggested.

"Something like that." Will shook himself and went for a joke. "Or, y'know, on the weeks when she's not dealing with a family emergency, between the two of us, I'm sure we could come up with the best ways of really fucking with her mind."

Habib smiled, letting Will lighten the mood. "That's true."

"Jim's good at what he does," Will murmured.

"Yeah," Habib agreed.

"Anyway," Will said with a wave of his hand. "It doesn't really matter, because Mac's father's still doing well. Mac's back to her old self again. Pretty much everything's back to normal."

"And where does that leave you then?" Habib asked. He wondered how it was affecting Will, no longer having an excuse to take care of Mackenzie.

"What do you mean where does that leave me?" Will asked. "It leaves me and Mackenzie right where we were before. Friends and colleagues."

"Okay," Habib replied.

Will felt a sudden urge to hit the other man. He had a way of agreeing with you while still managing to sound like he doubted everything you said.

"Seriously, we're fine," Will insisted. "We're going to Man of la Mancha next week."

Habib smiled. "Oh yes, the musical. I'd almost forgotten about that."

Will shook his head. "She hadn't," he replied.

xxx

The day before, Will had dropped by Mac's office to see how she was doing, and ask about her father. After she told him her Dad as recovering well, the anchor had lingered for a minute.

Mac caught him at it immediately. "My Dad's really fine, Will," she assured him.

"I know," Will replied.

"Okay," Mac said slowly, noticing that the man standing opposite her showed no signs of leaving her office. Not that she minded, it was just a bit strange.

Will realized he probably looked a bit stupid and really needed to say something. "So, I was thinking, you might have forgotten, what with everything else that's going on, I mean, with your Dad and all, but Don Quixote's next week."

He looked ever so slightly awkward, so Mac bit her lip to hide her smile. "I haven't forgotten," she assured him.

Will nodded. "Okay, well... good."

"It's next Saturday?" Mac double-checked, even though she didn't need to.

"Yes."

Mac nodded, standing up and walking to the other side of her desk to continue their conversation.

Will took an involuntary step towards her. "I was thinking..."

"Yes?"

"Probably easiest if we grab dinner beforehand. If you want to," he suggested. He was pretty sure it sounded casual.

Mac raised her eyebrows. "As opposed to afterwards?"

"Or separately, I suppose," Will admitted.

Mac frowned. Given the choice between eating separately and eating together, she knew which one she'd choose. "That seems... unnecessary."

"Exactly," Will agreed, relaxing slightly. "And afterwards, well we could do it then. But it'll be a bit late, even for us."

"Before's fine," Mac assured him.

"Okay."

"What time?" Mac asked in the ensuing pause.

"Six?" Will suggested. "I can stop by your place on my way to the restaurant and pick you up."

Mac smiled. She wondered if that meant he'd be dropping her off as well. "Sounds good."

"Okay then," Will agreed. It did sound good. He'd gotten what he wanted. She'd been so busy since she'd gotten back, catching up on what she missed that they hadn't had a chance to grab dinner together yet. And he doubted they'd have a chance this week with the way she was throwing herself into work. The musical was the perfect opportunity really.

Mac watched the man across from her. She wasn't sure exactly what was going on between them, but she was trying not to worry about it (or really think too hard about it at all for fear of upsetting the delicate balance of whatever the heck it was). She knew that in a lot of ways, she was lucky things were as good as they were. She appreciated the effort Will was obviously putting into things.

Some days she just appreciated Will.

She wondered if he knew that.

She took a deep breath. "I want to say something to you, and I don't want you to freak out."

Will didn't like the sound of that warning. "Mac…"

"No," Mackenzie said, shaking her head. "Don't say anything. Please. I just… I wanted to tell you that I'm looking forward to the play. I'm glad we're doing this. And I'm very glad that you decided not to hate me forever."

Will was stunned.

"That's all," Mac murmured, glancing at the ground.

Will wasn't sure he could speak. "Mac…"

"No," she replied, looking back up at him. "It's okay. You don't have to…" She hadn't said it to force him to reciprocate. She didn't _want_ him to reciprocate if he was uncomfortable. She'd just wanted him to _know_. All of a sudden it had seemed very important that he know that.

Will reached for her hand and squeezed it. He made sure to hold her eyes.

He squeezed her hand again.

She nodded once. She thought she understood.

He let go.

Then with a little gesture that might have been a wave, he slipped out of her office.

xxx

Habib sat watching the man across from him. That had been an interesting revelation. "Well," he said slowly. "It seems like the two of you are on the same page at least."

"Hmm?" Will asked.

"The two of you are both glad that you're able to maintain this friendship. You are glad about that, aren't you?" Habib asked.

"Of course," Will said quickly. He was glad she was in his life. He just also wasn't sure that put the two of them on the same page. When Mackenzie said things like that to him, all part of him wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and tell her that he was never letting her go. That he wanted to try again. But all the other half of her wanted to do was yell at her and demand to know why she'd done it, why she'd made him feel like he couldn't wrap his arms around her, even though he wanted to.

Their friendship was good; it was. Will was glad to have it. But it wasn't... it wasn't perfect.

And he wasn't sure it was exactly what either of them wanted.

Still, at least it was _something._

Habib broke through his thoughts to tell him that their time was up.

Will stood to put on his coat.

Dr. Habib had one last thing to say before his patient left. "Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Have a good time this Saturday," Habib told him.

Will paused before answering. "You know, I think we will."

At least he hoped so.

xxx

TBC


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry, I know this chapter was slow as well. I have a minor case of writer's block. The good news is, I think I have the main sequence of events sorted for the story. How fast it will actually get written is another question. I'm trying my best.

Chapter 7

xxx

When Will walked into Dr. Habib's office the following week, Jack got the distinct impression there was something the news anchor wanted to talk about. Will did a pretty good job of hiding it, of course. In fact, he spent the first ten minutes of the session complaining about the idiots who wrote into the show and the stupid comments that they left on the website (even though the comments were no longer anonymous). That was followed by five minutes on the latest stupid thing Reese Lansing had the temerity to suggest they cover, along with a story about their latest intern who'd very nearly spilled a cup of coffee over two computers.

"So it's been a difficult week so far, then?" Jack asked, cutting off Will's (he was pretty sure mostly fake) tirade.

Will paused. "Nah, it hasn't been that bad," he admitted after a second.

"Ah." Jack replied, knowing he'd been right. "Then what have you been talking about for almost fifteen minutes."

Will had an answer ready, "My week. I've been talking about the last few days. I thought that was what I was supposed to do in therapy?"

"I'd like to think this was something more than just a bitching session," Jack replied. "But if there's something else that's bothering you, feel free to continue."

"No, I think that's about it," Will replied before lapsing into silence.

"Alright, so would you like to talk about something else, then?" Jack asked after a few seconds.

"Well, my last topic of conversation apparently didn't meet your standards of a worthwhile use of therapy time," Will replied. "So..."

Jack sighed. "I didn't say..."

Will interrupted his shrink before he could finish the sentence. "On the other hand, I suppose there is something else we could talk about."

Jack smiled slightly, before asking the question he was pretty sure he knew the answer to. "And what is that?"

"On Saturday Mac and I went to Don Quixote," Will reminded his psychiatrist.

Jack decided to play along and pretend that they both thought he'd actually forgotten that fact. "Oh, that's right. How did that go?"

Will shrugged in an attempt to be casual. "Pretty well. Nothing too exciting, I guess. I picked her up at her place, we had dinner, saw the show. Which was nothing special but was a perfectly good production. It was fun."

"That's good," Jack replied, waiting for Will to fill in the gaps.

"It really wasn't a big thing," Will murmured.

"Okay," Jack agreed, knowing at this point he only had to wait. After all, when it came to Mackenzie McHale, almost everything _was_ a big thing for Will.

Will glanced out the window. "She looked good though."

xxx

Mac was still searching for her shoes when her buzzer rang.

"Hi," she said, awkwardly as she ran for it. "Sorry. I can't find my other shoe. I'll be down in just a minute."

She could hear Will's chuckle. "Just let me up Mackenzie," he replied.

Maybe it was his laugh that did it. It surprised her for some reason. She let him up without a second thought. Not that she had any objection to Will coming to her door, obviously. That would be foolish. It was just... unexpected. An unexpected courtesy. Yes, that was it. Not that she should be surprised that Will was being courteous. He almost always was. Well, provided you weren't a fan of reality television. In which case he just lectured you, while holding out your chair, of course.

Mac smiled to herself as she slipped her foot into her (finally located) missing shoe. Then she grabbed her coat from her closet and had just enough time to check that there wasn't anything embarrassing within view of her doorway before she heard Will's knock on the door.

Her smile was wide when she opened it. "Hi," she greeted. "You didn't need to come all the way up here. I could have met you downstairs."

Will had a bit of an odd look on his face. Like he wasn't quite sure what to do with the situation (the situation being a happy Mackenzie McHale looking beautiful and ready for him to take her out). "I think I can manage picking you up at your door," he replied. He glanced down, scanning her legs as he did it. "I see you found your shoe."

Mac laughed and stepped back to allow him to step inside the entryway. "I did," she agreed. "It was hiding in the back of my closet. You look good," she added. He did. Will wasn't in a suit, which was how she often saw him. He was wearing slacks and a sweater, one which she knew would be sinfully soft if she touched it. She'd always liked him best that way (even more than in a tuxedo). When he was less formal, he just looked so much more _Will_.

"So do you," Will murmured softly. She was wearing knee-length dress that wasn't one she usually wore to the office. Will wasn't sure what the distinction was exactly, where the line was drawn. But he knew there was one; the dark purple dress she was wearing was obviously for non-office related events. He liked the idea of that, even as it made him nervous. Not that he'd gotten a particularly good look at the dress yes. Mac had barely stood still since he'd arrived. At the moment, she was spinning around her entryway, her coat tossed over her arm and her purse in the other, obviously running through the mental list in her head, trying to make sure she had everything.

He'd been through this ritual more than once. It was one of the reasons he'd offered to just meet her at her door. She'd say she'd be down in thirty seconds, but Will knew there was always at least a couple of minutes of rushing around her entryway. The other reason he'd suggested she let him in became apparent when Mac finally concluded that she had everything necessary for dinner and a musical and spun back around to face him.

He held up a single daisy.

And Mac's cheerful, "All set!" stilled in her throat.

"Billy," she murmured, as she took it. She glanced at him for a half a second (just long enough for him to catch the affection and pleasure in her eyes) before her eyes flicked down. "That's very sweet."

Will smiled. He loved nothing more than surprising her. It was always fun to watch her search for a reaction. (Or maybe he just liked knowing that he still had an effect.) And somehow the daisy seemed appropriate. Not a big thing, but still... still _a_ thing.

"I should put this in a vase, or something..." Map was saying, spinning around yet again, obviously not sure what to do with her coat and purse.

"Here," Will offered, taking them from her. "Let me hold those."

She nodded absently before flitting into her kitchen, obviously searching for something appropriate to hold her daisy. Inspiration obviously wasn't striking. Will watched in amusement as Mac finally just grabbed a glass, filled it with water and plunked the flower in it.

"It was the right size," she told him defensively, catching his expression

"It's fine," Will assured her, holding her coat open for her. He rather liked the look of it actually, the single daisy sitting on her counter in a water glass.

Mac bit her lip. Yes, Will McAvoy was a gentleman. She let him slide the trench over her shoulders, and grabbed her purse from where he'd set it on the table in her entryway. "Any more surprises?" she asked with a smile.

"You're easily surprised," Will replied. After all, it had only been a single little flower. "But no, I don't think so."

"Okay," Mac replied.

"You ready?" Will asked, double-checking.

She nodded. "Let's do this."

Yes, Will thought to himself. Let's.

xxx

The drive to the restaurant was uneventful. Mostly, Will found himself trying to not stare at Mackenzie's legs as her dress shifted whenever she crossed or uncrossed her legs. He would have suspected she was doing it on purpose, except that she seemed occupied in (very animatedly) describing an idea she'd had for a new feature on the show.

Although, on second thought, maybe her distraction technique was deliberate, because Will was pretty sure he'd agreed to her new idea without having paid all that much attention to what it actually entailed. Oh well, if it did turn out he hated it, he could always change his mind later.

He'd decided to make reservations at an Italian restaurant. It wasn't a particularly exciting choice, but it was something he knew they both liked. And anyway, it wasn't like he was trying to impress Mackenzie. That wasn't what this was about. This was about spending time together, and seeing if they could somehow have a nice time. Something which so far seemed to be working.

Mac seemed to like the restaurant. For some reason the fact that the walls were burgundy and the ceiling was a deep blue pleased her. She always got so enthusiastic over the smallest things (Will had long ago stopped trying to predict what those would be). Anyway, he didn't mind her enthusiasm. It was better than hypocrisy. It was better than a lot of things actually. She was always so very genuine.

The decor wasn't the only thing positive thing about the evening. The wine was good. They made it through the appetizers, during which the only awkward moment was when Will stole the olives from Mac's salad out of habit without even thinking. She'd never liked them, and Will was pretty sure her breath caught when his fork sneaked back across the table after retrieving his prize. Mac recovered quickly with a comment on the salad dressing, but he'd known she'd almost gotten caught going down memory lane. He had too, but he ignored it, trying to focus on how she looked now, beautiful, and digging into her ravioli with gusto. He was enjoying his chicken, albeit less enthusiastically. Actually, he was enjoying more than just the food.

"This is nice," Will said suddenly.

Mac paused, her expression almost shy. He'd caught her off balance with his casual stealing of her food. It'd been nothing really. It was just the familiarity of it, the intimacy... "Yes."

Will wasn't sure what made him say it. Even though most of his brain was screaming at him that it was a bad idea, that he should really just shut up since she still looked happy, the rest of him wanted to tell her. To make sure she knew. "I missed this."

As he'd feared, the smile slipped off Mac's face, replaced with an expression Will was only too familiar with now. "I know."

Will cursed himself. _This_ was why he shouldn't have said anything. _This_ was why he shouldn't have rocked the boat. Now he'd hurt her, and wrecked it. He tried to fix it. He _wanted _to fix it, or at least to move past it. "I didn't mean it like that."

He watched Mac try to get a hold on her feelings. "Like what?" she asked cautiously.

Will ran a hand through his hair. "Like... like it's your fault." He'd just wanted to tell her he missed her. God damn it. Sometimes he missed her. He didn't quite know what to do about it, but he did. He missed her. Was that a crime?

Mac apparently had problems with the idea.

"But it _is_ my fault," she reminded Will sadly. She was well aware of that. And she was paying the price, even if she was also getting sick of this constant penance. Unfortunately, she couldn't quite see a way of breaking out of it.

"Mac…" Will said tiredly.

"What?" she whispered. "You don't think I know it's my fault?"

Will looked at her for a few seconds. Really looked at her. Her eyes full of guilt and sadness, the fact that her heart was obviously cracked showing on her face. "I'm beginning to think you're more aware of it than anyone," he said slowly.

It wasn't the answer Mac had been expecting. It was somehow... better. "Will?"

Will held her gaze. Maybe it was time to take stock of the facts. Mac always liked facts. "We have a past," he said after a moment.

"Yes, we do," Mac agreed.

"And I don't know that it's possible for us to spend time together and try and completely ignore it," Will said slowly. It had affected both of them separately so much, that wasn't reasonable.

"Because the real world doesn't work like that?" Mac said softly. The happy, fairytale ending wasn't a guarantee, much as she wanted it to be. She wasn't a princess, he wasn't a knight. (Somehow the fact that they were going to Man of la Mancha seemed appropriate). This was reality, not fiction.

"And both of our memories are too good," Will added wryly.

Mac almost chuckled. Then she sobered. "I'm not asking you to forget what happened," she said gently.

"That wasn't what I was trying to suggest," Will assured her. He knew now that she'd never ask that of him. Whatever it was she was hoping for, it wasn't that.

Mackenzie frowned slightly. "Then what?"

"I wasn't trying to blame you Mackenzie." Will tried again softly. "I just wanted to tell you that..."

He paused, and Mac realized the truth. He'd just _missed_ her. Without all of the other crap. The pleasure threatened to spill out of her, but she kept a lid on it somehow and filled in his hesitation with a truth of her own. "I really missed you too," she assured him.

Will felt a flash of pain in his chest. She understood; of course she did. "I know."

To his surprise, she sent him a ghost of a smile. "Okay."

Will sighed. "But I don't want today to be about what happened five years ago."

"You don't?" Mac double-checked. For some reason, no matter how many times he said it, she still had trouble quite believing that everything didn't have to be about what had happened between them all those years ago. No matter how much she wanted to.

"You don't like emotional manipulation. You like to stick to the facts," Will reminded her with a smirk. "It is a fact that I like having dinner with you, and that there's no one I'd rather go see Man of La Mancha with."

"Me too," Mac replied readily (and keeping her smile under control became that much more difficult).

"Good," Will said. "Well, that's all then."

Mac finally let her smile free, giving a little nod before going back to her ravioli.

Will couldn't help noticing her sneaking little glances at him every few seconds. "What?"

She smiled. "It's nothing."

"Mackenzie..."

She bit her lip. "Are you going to eat your cauliflower?"

With an exaggerated sigh (which also served to conceal his laughter), Will moved his wineglass and spun his plate to give her access to her favourite vegetable (he'd never admit that he might have saved it for her, just in case).

Mac didn't hesitate to grab one of the last few pieces on his plate. "Thank you."

He couldn't help smiling at her then. "You're welcome."

xxx

"So you had a rocky moment over dinner?" Jack surmised.

Will shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, I guess it was probably inevitable, or something."

"Yeah," his psychiatrist admitted dryly. Rocky moments were an understatement when it came to those two.

Will glanced up in annoyance, thinking he heard censure in the other man's tone. "I know Mac feels badly about what happened. I know she puts all the blame on herself. I'm not an idiot, Doc."

Habib leaned forward, intrigued by the direction the conversation had taken. He'd been doing this for long enough to recognize when his client's frustration wasn't actually directed at him. "I didn't say you were."

"Okay."

"Yet Mackenzie's answer still surprised you," Habib reminded the other man.

Will mulled that over in his mind, "Well, not surprised exactly..."

"What then?" Habib prompted.

Will exhaled slowly. "I guess I didn't realize how screwed up she was about it all."

Habib raised his eyebrows. This really was a new direction for the two of them. "You thought it was just you?"

Will tried to deny it. "No, I..."

But Habib pressed the point. "You thought that because it was her mistake she dealt with it better?" After all, Mackenzie was guilty in both of their minds (though Jack knew things were more complicated than that for Will). Still, acknowledging the feelings of another person was usually a big step.

"I don't... maybe," Will admitted. He'd blamed her because it was convenient, because it was easy, and maybe even deserved. But he also cared about her, and seeing her hurting...

"Will, after the two of you broke things off, the woman literally packed her bags and flew to a war zone," Jack said, his tone firm but gentle. He was well aware how gentle he had to be with this subject.

As expected, Will turned stubborn. "She's a journalist."

"And you don't think any of it was punishment?" Jack asked. "Not even a little bit?"

"It was an amazing opportunity, career-wise," Will reminded his psychiatrist. It had been. Obviously it'd been prompted by their breakup as well. But even so, Mackenzie had seized on an amazing opportunity for any journalist. The fact that it was on the other side of the world wasn't a complete coincidence, but... Oh hell. Of course she'd been running. He'd always known that. He'd been glad of it at the time, to be honest. Even if the alternative might have been healthier for both of them in the long run. That thought had kept him up at night sometimes.

"Yes, it was," Habib agreed, wondering exactly what was going on in the other man's head.

"It's not only my issues that we're going to have to deal with, is it?" Will asked, feeling suddenly defeated. He remembered the pain in her eyes, and wondered just how deep the guilt went. Wondered if it could ever be routed out.

"No," Habib told him honestly.

Will sighed. "Great."

"Sorry Will," Habib said with a slight smile, trying to lighten the mood. "That's how real relationships work."

Will scowled. "I know."

"Okay."

"Wait, are you saying that's why it didn't work out the first time?" Will asked, suddenly incredulous and angry. "Because I wasn't considering Mackenzie's needs? That's why she cheated on me?"

"I didn't say that," Habib assured him.

Will glared at him. "Oh no, you just..."

"I already told you once why I think Mackenzie cheated on you, and it had nothing to do with you,' Habib reminded him.

"How could it have nothing to do with me?" Will demanded.

"Well, maybe a little bit, I guess," Habib admitted easily. Their relationship couldn't have been perfect, or the cheating probably wouldn't have happened. But Mackenzie's feelings for Will hadn't been the driving force. "But, it was mostly not about you."

"Hmph."

"Does the thought that maybe you didn't consider her needs the first time around worry you?" Habib asked gently.

"What? Of course it worries me. Who wouldn't worry about it?" Will asked in frustration. "After all Doc, it's not like I have the best track record in this area. Look at me! Most of my dates in the past few years have ended up in the gossip columns or with a drink in my face. And my most functional relationship to date is with a woman who cheated on me with her idiot ex-boyfriend."

"You're fighting for the relationship though," Habib reminded him. "That's something."

"Didn't fight for it right away," Will grumbled.

"What is it with you and right away?" Habib wondered. "Who cares about that? So you needed a bit of time to make up your mind."

The idea struck Will as somehow appropriate. "Like Mackenzie did last time, you mean?"

"Will, Mackenzie betrayed you last time, regardless of her reasons, good or bad," Habib said.

"Maybe she just needed a bit more time to make up her mind," Will argued. Maybe she had. What had she told him once? That he'd known from the second he'd met her. She obviously hadn't. Maybe that had been part of their problem. He was sure there were others.

"Maybe," Habib agreed, more to keep the other man talking than anything.

"It can take time to make up your mind," Will said quietly.

"Yes."

The idea made Will unexpectedly cheerful. "This is why I think we need to go slowly. Try and be friends..."

Jack didn't point out that slow was probably being generous. Whatever speed Will and Mackenzie were moving at, it was probably the pace they needed to go. "I think that's probably wise."

"What do you know about wisdom?" Will grumbled. "Isn't it something you accumulate with age?"

"Not much, but I needed to say something," Jack admitted easily.

Will smirked.

"You're trying to make up your mind?" Jack said, summarizing their last few weeks of sessions.

His comment threw Will of guard. "What?"

"About Mackenzie," Jack clarified. "That's what you're doing. You're trying to make up your mind."

Will considered that, irritated to discover it was probably true. "I guess... Yeah. That's what I'm doing."

"Right."

"And if we do take our time..." Will said softly, trailing off as he glanced to the side.

Jack smiled softly. "Will?"

"I guess it'll give her time to make up her mind too," the anchor murmured. "Apparently I made up mine too fast last time."

Jack frowned. "Did she say that?"

"Something like it," Will muttered.

Jack highly doubted that was true, though he could see how Will might think that. "Will..."

Will scowled. "Fine, she said I made up my mind faster than she did."

"And that made her nervous?" Jack asked.

"I think so," Will replied. "Yes."

"Well, maybe this time, if you get that far, you can ask her," Jack suggested, hoping it would give them something to work towards.

But Will wasn't quite ready to acknowledge the possibility. "Maybe."

Jack decided to change the subject. "You said you weren't trying to impress her."

Will frowned in confusion. "I did?"

"Yes," Jack nodded. He hadn't bothered to call bullshit at the time, but...

"What's your point?" Will asked.

"Do you honestly believe that?" Jack asked, trying to keep his incredulity out of his tone.

"Sure," Will replied easily.

"Okay," Jack agreed, deliberately sounding sceptical.

Will reconsidered his statement, knowing he'd been caught. "Well, okay, maybe I was trying to impress her. I mean, maybe a little. But not beyond..."

"Not beyond what?" his doctor prompted.

"Not beyond how any guy tries to impress a beautiful woman," he insisted. After all, most men would do a fair bit to impress a woman like Mackenzie McHale. It was practically ingrained in their DNA. He was just particularly susceptible to her. "You know how it is."

"Sure," Habib agreed easily.

Will found himself annoyed with the man sitting across from him yet again. "Or maybe, since you haven't hit puberty yet..."

Habib tried to suppress his sigh. "Will..."

"Fine. Yes, that was probably a lie," Will admitted.

"You think?" Jack asked sarcastically.

"Shut up," Will said automatically.

Jack didn't rise to the bait.

So Will tried to explain a second time. "It's just... it's Mackenzie. There's something about her."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"She's so insanely idealistic sometimes, or so optimistic. She gets so excited, enthusiasm practically overflows out of her. Sometimes you can't help wanting to... There's just something about her is all," Will said, suddenly sure he might never quite be able to explain it.

Jack thought there might be more to it than that. "Will?"

"When she's happy, she doesn't worry about showing it," Will said eventually.

xxx

Will was willing to admit that he liked a musical. It may not have been the coolest or the most manly thing in the world for a grown man to admit to, but it was true. He enjoyed musicals. There was something about the exaggerated emotion they tended to display. If he was feeling pretentious he could argue that it was through that exaggeration of emotion that some kernel of truth about the human condition was revealed, but that was pretty much bullshit. Or maybe it was true, he didn't know. He didn't really care. He just liked them.

Mackenzie did too, though she referenced them less frequently in conversation. Except for any and all comparisons to Don Quixote (although, to be fair, that was a fairly recent development). She certainly seemed to enjoy herself at the show. Will couldn't stop himself from stealing glances at her periodically after the curtain rose. Her emotions played across her face while the musical played on stage.

Amusement, sadness, pity, happiness, they were all there for everyone to see. Will was experiencing the same feelings as she was, but he doubted they were as obvious on his face. Mac on the other hand, was more of an open book. It wouldn't have even occurred to her to try to conceal her reaction to what was happening on stage. Why not laugh when the play was funny or cry when it was sad? Though she'd probably deny the latter if he brought it up; sometimes she liked to pretend she wasn't affected by musicals. She liked to think she was tough, and okay, yeah, she was, at least when it came to facing reality (the woman _had_ spent three years in a literal war zone), but, when it came to a well told story, well... All of her defences deserted her.

Will did his best not to look smug as he handed her a tissue just before the final curtain.

"Shut up," she sniffled, but she took the Kleenex all the same. Didn't even bother asking him why he had it. They both knew the answer to that. It wasn't his first time escorting her to the theatre after all.

Will watched affectionately as she dabbed at her eyes. Mac never fell to sobbing or anything like that; she just sort of welled up until she overflowed, like she couldn't contain her feelings anymore. By the time the curtain rose so the actors could take their bows, she was smiling again and clapping as loudly as anyone.

Will joined her. It had been a good show. Sancho's voice had been a little weak, and Dulcinea had tried a little too hard, but overall the show had been solid. There were far, far worse ways to spend an evening. And he did love the theatre, even if he didn't go as much as he'd have liked. For a start, his work schedule didn't always make it easy.

And anyway, going to the theatre alone wasn't much fun.

Not that he was alone today.

His eyes slid back to the woman beside him. Mac was shrugging her coat back on. When she'd finished, Will wordlessly held out a hand to her. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but she took it readily. He let himself enjoy the feeling of her fingers threading through his own. Sending her a hint of a smile, Will led her out of the theatre, weaving them through the crowd. When he reached the lobby he paused. The rush of their fellow theatre-goers certainly wouldn't help the traffic situation.

At least, that was what he was going to tell himself.

Squeezing her hand, he got Mackenzie's attention.

She kept her question non-verbal.

Will could feel his smile reaching his eyes, but decided he didn't care. "I don't suppose you feel like getting a drink?"

He decided he rather liked the way her face lit up at the question.

xxx

Ten minutes later they were tucked into the corner of a pub on the corner. It wasn't anything special, but it wasn't a dive either. Will figured it would do nicely. He ordered a whiskey and was unsurprised to hear Mac do the same. It was the right kind of night for it somehow.

He watched her curl herself slightly towards him from her side of the table. "So what did you think?" she asked after the waitress had dropped off their drinks.

Will took a sip of the whiskey. It wasn't bad, just like the musical. "Pretty good," he told her. "A few of the cast could have been stronger..."

"Like the woman playing Dulcinea, you mean?" Mac murmured.

Will shrugged, "Sancho stood out more for me, actually."

"It was a bit of a toss up," Mac replied.

"Still, it wasn't bad," Will replied. "Don Quixote was quite good. I've seen far worse."

"That terrible production of Sweeney Todd?" Mac murmured.

To his surprise, the memory didn't hurt. . "Among others," he admitted.

Mac cradled her glass against her chest as she studied the man sitting across from her. He looked good, god he looked good, just sitting there nursing a drink in a bar. Handsome, strong, reliable. And she was probably getting pathetic, but she didn't really care. Because for the first time in a while, things didn't feel awkward between them in a context outside of work.

"Yeah, this was award-winning theatre in comparison to that thing," she murmured in reply. "I'll never understand why the costume designer decided it would be a good idea to dress everyone in primary colours."

"It hardly set the mood for a murderous barber," Will agreed. "Leaving at intermission was probably a wise choice."

"Mmhm," Mac agreed, taking a sip of her whiskey.

"Besides," Will added. "I think you enjoyed tonight's performance more than you're letting on. Someone got a little emotional towards the end there," he teased.

Mac hoped the bar was dark enough to conceal her blush as she cursed her inability to hide her emotions. She tried to play it off, "Oh come on..."

"I'm pretty sure I even heard a sob," Will continued cheerfully.

Mac tried to defend herself. "Oh you did not! I'll admit, there may have been a tear or two, but..."

"You were practically bawling," Will said neutrally.

Mac burst out laughing, setting down her drink she leaned forward to smack him in the arm. "Hyperbole," she informed him lightly.

"Just reporting the facts ma'am," Will replied with twinkling eyes. "Like any good newsman."

"And you're sure you're never prone to exaggeration, sir?" Mac asked with mock-seriousness.

Will shook his head with a smile. "Never. My producer keeps me honest."

Mac leaned back in her chair, pleased. "She sounds like she has her hands full."

Will shrugged. "I think she can handle it."

"She can," Mac assured him. Then more softly, "I'm glad you liked your Christmas present."

"I did like my Christmas present," Will agreed. In fact, his Christmas present had far exceeded any expectations he might have had when she'd first given him the tickets.

"Good," Mac murmured.

"How on earth did you manage to find a theatre actually putting on the musical?" Will asked.

"It's New York," Mac answered simply. "It's not like there's a shortage of theatres in this city. And Google helped."

Will nodded. "It often does."

He watched her cross her legs, obviously pleased with herself. He understood the feeling. It had been a long time since he'd genuinely enjoyed a Christmas gift.

The ride back to Mac's apartment was uneventful. Will would have said they managed to keep things easy between them, except that it hadn't felt like work. Maybe it was the effect of a good play, maybe it was the whiskey, but he didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable. He just felt... good. (It'd taken him longer than it should have to recognize the feeling.) So he was vaguely disappointed when they pulled up in front of Mac's building.

As he walked her to her door, Will found her hand again. He saw the question in her eyes when he wrapped his fingers around hers, but she didn't actually ask it, and he didn't volunteer an answer. Instead, he waited until they were just outside her door before raising her hand to his lips and brushing his lips across her knuckles.

Mac's sharp intake of breath was audible.

Will smiled softly. "Have a good night, Mackenzie."

She stared at him for a moment. "You too," she whispered, before turning towards the door.

Will took a step backwards and waited until she was safely inside. He was pleased to see her glance back at him more than once, and even more pleased to notice she was biting her bottom lip the last time she did it.

Once the door shut behind her, Will turned, sticking his hands in his pockets. For some reason, he had to stifle the strangest urge to laugh.

xxx

"Do you worry about looking happy?" Habib asked when Will reached the end of his story.

It wasn't the question Will had been expecting. "What?"

"Before," Jack clarified. "You mentioned that Mackenzie doesn't. I was wondering if you did."

Will paused, considering the question. Did he worry about looking happy? There were two answers to that. It depended on what he was happy about. If he was happy because of a particularly good book, or a glass of scotch, or a nice day, why not show it? Not too much obviously, wouldn't want to frighten the people who knew him. And the other type of happy? The type that went bone-deep and lasted? Well, he hadn't had that for a while, and he knew exactly what it felt like when it disappeared. The idea of having it back, well, he wasn't sure if... Mentally shaking himself, Will went with the easy answer. "Who would be afraid of looking happy?"

"You don't always look happy," Jack observed.

Will barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Because like most people, I'm _not_ always happy, thanks for bringing it up."

"That was exactly what you did when you walked in here and complained for fifteen minutes," Jack reminded him.

"Yeah, it's quite an effect you have on people, Jack," Will quipped.

Jack caught the humour in the other man's voice. As leery as Will was of the emotion (and as much as he liked to complain about the general state of the world), there was no denying the fact that Will MacAvoy was happier this week than he'd been last week. "I'm just saying, it sounds like you had a good weekend," Jack said neutrally.

Well, _obviously_ he'd had a good weekend, Will thought. "A meal and a show with an intelligent, beautiful, interesting woman, what's not to like?"

"Is this the part where we're supposed to high five and I congratulate you, or something?" his psychiatrist asked dryly.

Will almost smiled. "Please don't."

Jack did smile. "Yeah, I wasn't going to."

Will nodded, more to himself than anything. It was an expression Jack was beginning to recognize. Will was lost in his own thoughts again, trying to sort something out. Jack waited patiently for the anchor to reach his mental conclusion.

"We did have a good night though, in the end," Will murmured. "Mackenzie and I, I mean. In spite of everything. Saturday was... nice."

And that was when Jack realized something. Will definitely wasn't looking for someone to congratulate him on getting a date with a beautiful woman, or for enjoying himself, or even to pat him on the head about how well he was doing being able to spend time with a woman whose name he could barely stand to hear mentioned two years ago. Will was looking for reassurance. Reassurance that he'd done something social _well_. Reassurance that moving slowly with Mackenzie was the right thing to do and wasn't going to blow up in his face.

He'd had a good weekend, and now he was trying not to freak out. And mostly trying not to worry that it might all disappear in a flash again if he made one wrong move. Or if Mackenzie changed her mind.

It made Jack wonder just how much Will had isolated himself from any meaningful connection with the world over the three years Mackenzie had been out of his life. Jack wasn't assigning blame, but reading between the lines, it sounded like Will had no significant romantic relationships, and professionally none of his staff had lasted more than a year. Instead, he'd had his fans and the media.

Then Mackenzie had come back and flipped everything on its head.

Jack wondered if she was aware of the power she wielded. He wondered if Will was.

But he knew better than to bring any of that up. "So you had a good time."

"Yeah," Will agreed easily.

"You made her happy," Jack continued.

That made Will pause. On some level he'd already known that of course, but hearing it so matter-of-factly was different somehow. He almost sputtered. "Yeah... Well... Sure.

But Jack wasn't done. "Were _you_ happy?"

Will resisted the urge to squirm in his chair. "I had a good time."

And with that, Jack went in for the kill and asked the question they'd been leading up to all session. "Do you think you're afraid of letting yourself be happy with Mackenzie?"

Will looked away. "I was happy with her, before I mean."

"And if you forgive her," Jack pressed. "What then?"

Will swallowed. That was the question, wasn't it? He turned back to look at his doctor. "I don't know," he admitted.

Jack decided he'd pushed enough for one week. It was a question Will was probably going to have to sit with, and not something that a single good night at the theatre (or an hour's therapy session) was going to answer. "You had a good time on Saturday?" he half-asked, half-reminded.

Will's lips almost quirked up into a smile, realizing what the other man was doing. "Yeah."

Jack stood, signalling the end of the session. "Well, for now, I'd focus on that. And give the rest a little more time."

Will nodded, standing and heading for the door. "See you next week," he said.

Jack nodded. Stopping the other man just before he could leave. "And Will?"

The anchor turned towards him.

Jack smiled. "The daisy was a nice touch."

Will tried to scowl at him, but they both knew his heart wasn't in it. In fact, Jack would bet the man was maybe even smiling as he walked down the hall.

Not that Will would ever admit it, of course.

xxx

TBC

SO, random question, do people prefer if I refer to Dr. Habib as "Habib" or "Jack"? Or does it make no difference? Because I seem to keep switching at random. Some days I like one, some days I like the other, and it's starting to bother me, so I just thought I'd ask if any of my lovely readers/reviewers had a preference, since I obviously don't.


	9. Chapter 8

So, this is another chapter that's becoming massively long, so I'm splitting it. It's as good a place as any, really. Hope you like it. We're shifting into another section of the story now.

Chapter 8

xxx

Will's mood was hard to read when he walked into Jack's office a couple of weeks later.

"Morning Will," the doctor said as he waited for the other man to sit down.

Will didn't return the greeting. Instead, he just sat down. "Mac and I have been getting along better lately," he said without preamble, almost like he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, attempting to sort out what was happening. After all, usually when in conversation with Will anything important was preceded by fifteen minutes of unrelated crap. Apparently they were skipping that today.

Will glared at him (though Jack realized he saw some fear lurking around the edges). "I mean _that_. We've been getting along better."

"Why don't you give me an example?" Jack asked. Specifics were often the key. Like many things Will told him, Jack suspected the real importance was far more complicated than any one simple statement.

Will scowled. "Fine. I can even give you an example from yesterday…"

xxx

Sloan Sabbith was on her way through the newsroom at the end of her lunch break just as the Newsnight rundown meeting was breaking up. She'd seen it before, the staffers spilling out of the room usually in varying stages of discussion, debate or in some cases outright argument. She was unsurprised to note that today Mac and Will were among the most vocal.

What did surprise her was the subject of their verbal spat.

"What do you mean, you haven't watched a movie in over six months?" Will demanded.

"I would have thought my meaning was relatively clear," Mac replied easily. "I haven't watched a movie in six months. I don't know how else to convey that idea more clearly, unless you'd like me to try to act it out."

"I've seen you play charades," Will reminded her. :There's no way that would make anything clearer."

Mackenzie was unfazed. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I'm excellent at acting things out in charades, and you're just terrible at guessing?"

"Of course it's occurred to me," Will replied immediately.

Mackenzie raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And I dismissed it as ridiculous," Will assured her.

Mac ignored the snickers of the staffers around them. "Hey!"

Sloan sidled over to Jim. "Why are they talking about this?" she asked.

The senior producer shrugged. He'd long stopped asking these questions. "I honestly don't know."

Sloan hadn't. "Are you doing a story about the movies on tonight's show or something?" she asked.

"Nope," Jim replied cheerfully. "Seriously, I stopped trying to follow the argument about ten minutes ago. I think it may have somehow stemmed from a discussion about Olympic preparations, but I may have missed a few conversational steps along the way."

"May have?" Sloan asked skeptically.

Jim just shrugged. Working with Mackenzie for so long, this sort of thing started to seem normal. And Will wasn't exactly the voice of sanity he thought he was.

Sloan turned her attention back to the two (supposedly grown) adults arguing in the centre of the newsroom.

"How have you honestly not seen a movie in six months?" Will was asking.

"I don't know. Just haven't felt like it, I guess," Mackenzie replied honestly. "This schedule doesn't exactly help."

"Oh, you mean you haven't seen a movie in the theatres?" Will asked. That did make more sense.

"That too," Mackenzie acknowledged.

Will stared at her. "I'm sorry, what?"

Mac sighed. "I told you..."

"That you haven't watched a movie in six months," Will finished with a wave of his hand. "And that includes just catching one on your television one evening?"

Mac rolled her eyes. "I just don't watch that many movies. I like them. I don't have anything against them, but when I get home at night, or on the weekend, it's just not something I typically do. I watch television. I read books. What do you want from me?"

Will stared at her, "Some participation in a massive component of American culture."

"Watch it buster," Mack warned. "And anyway, when was the last time _you_ watched a movie?"

"I'll have you know, I watched a movie on Saturday," Will replied smugly.

Now it was Mackenzie's turn to smirk. "Oh, was Rudy on television again?"

Will ignored the snickers surrounding him from the newsroom. "No, I do like other movies, Mackenzie. Though yes, this one was on TV."

"Go on then," Mac replied. "Which movie was it?"

Will stood a bit straighter, preparing for the reaction. "The Princess Bride."

This time the snickers in the newsroom were a little louder, but Mackenzie's eyes lit up (as Will had known they would). "The Princess Bride?" she asked excitedly. "I love that movie!"

"It's a good movie," Will said forcefully, more to silence the snickers than anything.

Mac was pouting. "Why didn't you call me to tell me it was on?"

There were any number of answers to that question, Will thought, not the least of which was she might have had other plans on a Saturday night, unlike him. None of that entered into the answer he gave. "Don't you own that movie?"

"Yes," Mac confirmed.

"So why would you watch it on television with the commercials?" Will asked.

Mac shrugged. "I don't know. It's different somehow."

"Yeah, because they cut scenes to make the movie fit into the time slot," Will said dryly.

But that wasn't what Mac had meant. "We could have watched it together," she said after a moment.

"What, over the phone?" Will joked.

Mackenzie smiled. "I suppose not. Though I suppose I could have brought over my copy so you didn't have to watch the commercials either."

The image made Will smile. "I'll keep that in mind for next time," he told her dryly.

"Okay," Mac replied easily.

"I still can't believe you haven't watched a single movie in over six months!" Will expostulated, returning to the original subject of conversation.

"Oh get over it," Mac replied.

"It's ridiculous," the anchor grumbled.

Mac sighed. "I told you, I don't have anything against them, I just don't think of it."

"I'm taking you to the movies," Will decided. "It's a necessary step, for your own cultural education."

That caught Sloan's attention, and (she was amused to note) the attention of at least half a dozen other staffers who were pretending to be working on their computers, but were obviously more interested in the conversation going on in front of them.

"This is really happening right?" she asked Jim, who was shuffling through some files on the desk they were leaning against.

"I've been working with Mac for over five years now. I stopped asking those questions long ago," he told her.

"Makes sense," Sloan murmured back.

Mac was glaring at the man she was arguing with. "I hardly think I'm lacking in culture," she told him with a scowl. This from a man who thought _Rudy_ is the height of American cinema. Then an idea struck her. She bent over a free computer. "Alright then, why don't we see what's playing this weekend?" she asked Will.

Will hadn't really expected to nail down the details right that second, but had no real objection to it. Mac was already busy typing anyway. "Uh, sure."

"Let's see what we've got." Mac pulled up a web page and grinned triumphantly. "Well, there's some kind of movie about kids on drugs at a party, it might be a horror movie, I don't know. There's another one about a guy who somehow winds up on Mars, an Eddie Murphy movie," Will cringed, "A movie about a bunch of adults with kids and love lives, a couple more teen horror movies, a remake of an 80s television show and some kind of superhero movie. Oh, and another Doctor Seuss book they decided to bring to the big screen."

Will frowned and walked to stand beside her. "That isn't actually what's playing."

Mac spun the monitor to face him.

He scanned the screen, realizing she'd given actually a fairly accurate description of what movies were on. "Okay, well I don't think that's a superhero movie," he murmured. "I think its robots or something."

"Do you want to see it in that case?" Mac asked.

"Not even a little bit," Will was forced to admit.

"Do you want to see any of these?" Mac pressed.

Will was forced to admit that he did not. "No."

"Right," Mac replied with a grin.

"It's not like I said _all_ movies were good. This is obviously a bad week," Will argued. Sure, a lot of the movies that came out weren't exactly things he was thrilled to see, but they weren't all bad. This was just a slump, or something. Then an idea struck him, "Maybe at one of the smaller theatres... The independents..."

But Mac had other things on her mind, "I do think this selection explains in part why it doesn't always occur to me to go to the movies, unless something really good is playing."

"Like yet another Austen adaptation?" Will suggested. He remembered going to more than one of those with her over the years (though he was also willing to admit they weren't _all_ bad).

"Sometimes," Mac admitted easily. "Though some of those look pretty terrible too."

"Hmm," Will murmured, still looking at the screen. "Okay, obviously my plan to reintroduce you to one of America's greatest art forms needs a little work."

"I'll let you sort that out," Mac said with an affectionate pat on his shoulder.

Will smiled slightly in response, before turning back to the screen while Mac turned to ask Kendra a question.

Her quick hand on his shoulder, that was different. The gesture made Sloan frown. It seemed revealing. And although both Mac and Will's voices had been raised at the start of their argument, there hadn't been any real malice underneath it. Just the sort of spat you got into with someone you knew really well. Sloan wondered if she'd known Mackenzie didn't really go to the movies that often, or that she loved the Princess Bride, and apparently Jane Austen. She didn't think she had, but Will had that information, had used it in the debate without a second thought.

Then it hit her. This must have been what things would have been like between the two of them five years ago. All bickering on the surface, but underneath it easy affection and understanding. They'd both been vocal as long as she'd known them. The arguing was normal. They always teased each other, but it seemed different now somehow. It was changing, becoming more affectionate. Sloan realized that she'd passed them coming back from lunch together more than once in the past month. They'd also both started picking up coffee for two, and spending spare moments in each other's offices. She wondered what it meant, what was going on. She was fairly certain they weren't back together, but. She glanced back over at them in time to catch Will watching Mackenzie.

The expression on his face made Sloan wondered if they knew what was going on themselves. Like Jim, she certainly wasn't going to ask. Sloan smiled to herself. Whatever it was between them, she was pretty sure it was a good thing.

She turned to go to her office when something else caught her ear.

"You have lunch plans?" Will asked Mackenzie casually.

"No," she told him. "Why? You planning on continuing my education into American movies, never mind that you hadn't even seen Casablanca until you met me?"

Will smiled. "We could discuss making it a joint project."

Mac tried not to look pleased. She failed. "Hm..."

Will (and everyone else in the room) saw through her. "I'll buy you a falafel."

Mac let herself smile a little. "I'll get my coat."

"Okay," Will agreed, turning towards his own office. "Hey Sloan," he greeted as he walked past the younger woman.

"Hey Will," she replied. Then she smiled. "The Princess Bride?"

He just shrugged. "It's a good movie."

He watched as she nodded once. "I suppose it is."

In all honesty, Will didn't give the economist too much thought. His mind already focused on grabbing his coat before his lunch.

xxx

"So you and Mackenzie are more comfortable together at work," Jack surmised.

"Yes," Will confirmed.

"Your friendship is bleeding over into your professional life, more so than it has been in the past," Jack continued.

"Yes," Will muttered, glancing down.

Habib frowned. He'd thought a closer relationship with Mackenzie was pretty much what Will had wanted. Up until now, a more stable friendship with Mackenzie McHale had been exactly what he'd been working towards. "And is that becoming a problem?" Habib asked.

Will's head snapped up. "What?"

Jack took note of the anger in the other man's eyes, anger mixed with shock. Jack knew the question had been direct, but sometimes blunt was best. "Is getting friendlier with Mackenzie becoming a problem?" he repeated. "Is it affecting your work? Is it making you unhappy, bringing up old memories, that sort of thing?"

Will shook his head. _"No,"_ he said emphatically. He stood up abruptly and began walking around the office, trying to get rid of the energy suddenly surging through his chest. Being close to Mac wasn't the problem. Of all the stupid questions... He took a deep breath. "It's not a problem. My friendship with Mackenzie is _not_ a problem. It's what I want. It's... it's..."

Habib watched the other man carefully, remaining where he was. Something else was obviously going on. Jack could only assume something had happened to awaken one of Will's many repressed issues where Mackenzie was concerned. "Will?" he prompted softly.

Will clenched his hands as he pretended to scan the bookshelves on the wall. After a moment he turned back towards his psychiatrist, trying to be calm. "Lunch yesterday was fine. We argued about whether or not it was ridiculous that she hadn't watched a movie in six months. We talked about maybe watching one together. I mean, it's New York. Somewhere there's got to be a movie theatre playing something worth going to."

"I'm sure there is," Jack agreed. "Maybe find one of the independent theatres, see if one of them is having a festival."

"Exactly," Will agreed. "That's what I said. Anyway, lunch was pretty standard. We grabbed a falafel. Then we split up before going back to the building. Mac wanted to get a fancy latte at the coffee shop on the corner."

"And what did you do?" Jack asked.

Will shrugged. "I decided to Google movie theatres in New York," he admitted. "Found a couple smaller ones nearby. I figured she'd be back in her office by the time I was finished so I went to tell her about them."

"Was she not in her office?" Jack asked.

"Oh, she was," Will replied. "She definitely was."

xxx

Will knocked lightly on the door of Mackenzie's office out of courtesy before opening it. He'd been relatively successful in his search for a movie that they might both actually _want_ to see. "So, I was looking at movies playing close by in the near future," he said as he walked inside. Then he froze.

Because while they'd been basically barging into each other's offices for years now, this time was different.

Mackenzie McHale wasn't quite dressed. Some idiot had jostled her arm as she'd been bringing her latte back to the office. Not only had she lost half of her drink, but her blouse had a large brown stain in the centre of it (her only consolation was that her coat had somehow been spared). She'd been changing into a spare blouse in the (relative) safety of her office when Will had burst in on her.

Mac spun around in shock, realizing a second too late that her blouse was only half buttoned (luckily it was the important half). "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" she sputtered.

Will's brain literally stalled when he caught sight of the overall state of her blouse. "Oh, god. Sorry, I..." He trailed off, unable to stop his eyes from drifting over her. Mac had buttoned the top few buttons of her blouse, so pretty much everything inappropriate was covered, but Will couldn't help noticing the two halves of her cream-coloured blouse spreading open an inch or two below her breasts exposing her abdomen.

And, _oh Jesus fucking Christ._

His gasp was harsh in the suddenly quiet room. He took a single step towards her before stopping, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him barely registering in his mind.

Now it was Mackenzie's turn to freeze as she suddenly realized that while her blouse covered enough that she didn't have to worry about accidentally flashing her ex-boyfriend, she still wasn't quite dressed. And while the parts of her body most people would care about were covered, there were other things exposed. Things that, unlike the rest of her, Will had never actually seen.

He hadn't seen...

And now he had. Actually, he hadn't taken his eyes off of it.

Oh god. Oh _god._ She didn't know how to deal with this. She... She needed to button her blouse. Yes, that was it. She would get her hands to stop shaking, and she would button her blouse. And they would talk about this rationally. (Or maybe they would try to pretend it never happened; she didn't know.)

But before Mac could do any of that, Will had crossed the room until he was standing directly in front of her, his eyes never leaving her open shirt.

Mac still couldn't figure out what to do, couldn't seem to make her hands move. She could feel herself trembling. The way he was looking at her... _Jesus._

And he still wasn't looking at her face. She had no idea what to say to get him to.

Then Will's hands were spreading the bottom halves of her undone blouse further apart to get a better look.

Before Mac could object, his hands were on her skin. He was standing so close, she swore she could feel his breath against her temple. In and out, in and out, far faster than it should have been. And she knew Will was caught up in his mind, in some sort of horrible corner she knew could get him stuck in any number of terrible places. Places where he could torture himself for weeks on end under the surface, without showing his pain to anyone. That thought was enough to loosen her tongue. "Will," she said softly. "Billy..."

Will did meet her eyes then, his own intense and scared. The emotion hidden in them stole Mac's breath away again. She felt her throat go dry.

But she knew he needed her. So she swallowed, and tried her best to speak. The attack had been so long ago, sometimes she almost forgot the scar was there. It wasn't like it impacted her daily life in any way. Besides, it wasn't a thing she liked to focus on. "I got it in Islamabad," she told the frightened man in front of her, though she was fairly certain he already knew that. For all his dismissive comments immediately after she'd returned, Will seemed to have kept fairly close track of her career. But Mac also knew that with things like this, knowing and actually seeing were very different. So she continued her explanation, "Stabbed by rebels. It looks worse than it was. The unit I was with got me to hospital as soon as they could, and we had a field medic with us knew what he was doing. I know it's not pretty, but it's not a problem either."

Pretty? Will thought. What did he care about pretty? She had an uneven six inch mark along her abdomen. As it happened, it wasn't actually that ugly in and of itself, but he was pretty sure that there were some fairly important internal organs hidden underneath it. Will stroked his thumb along the edge, suppressing a shudder.

Mac gasped at the touch.

Apparently finally realizing what he was doing, Will whipped his hands off of her like he'd been burned. He tried to get a hold of himself. He needed to pull it together. He needed...

He spun away from her and started pacing around her office. All he could see in his mind was Mac, being stabbed by a nameless attacker in a crowd, Mac, hurt, Mac, in pain, Mac, bleeding. Mac...

Someone had done this to her. Someone had... His eyes hardened, became almost angry. He'd heard parts of the story, of course he had. But he'd been angry with her then, angry and caught up in his own pain. And he'd mostly heard the bullet points (he'd never heard it from _her_, never had to face the evidence directly). Besides, the time lag had been enough that he'd only heard about it a day or so after the fact, when she'd already arrived in the hospital and going to be _fine_. Her life had never been in danger in his world. He'd never... Seeing it was somehow... He paused, and turned back towards her.

Mac was watching him and feeling helpless. Now she took a tentative step towards him, not quite knowing how to deal with the repressed emotion in front of her, emotion that looked like it was about two seconds from exploding. She wasn't sure she wanted to be in the way when it did. It looked dangerous. But she wanted Will to be alone with it even less. She _couldn't_ leave him alone with it. She wouldn't add to his nightmares. Not when the hurt was long past. She needed him to acknowledge her _now_. She needed him to see that this pain was over. "I don't think I was ever in any real danger," she said. It was a lie and they both knew it, but they both also knew he needed to hear it right now. "I'm fine Will. I told you about this, in one of those e-mails you apparently didn't read," she said, trying to joke. "I'm fine."

It must have been one of the few e-mails he hadn't read. Must have been one of his months of really hating her. Or maybe he'd gotten the e-mail after he'd heard about the incident and hadn't been able to open it. There'd been more than one he hadn't been able to open. For any number of reasons.

Just how much had he hated her? The guilt slammed into him like a body blow.

He'd been hating her and she'd been hurt. What if something had happened to her while he'd been behind his anchor desk, reporting non-news, just hating her? What if she'd... And he'd have just been sitting pretty in his safe little newsroom bubble, trying not to rock the boat, trying to keep his goddamn viewers in love with him. While the one person who actually mattered was... There'd been surgery. He'd known that. She'd been in the hospital, in pain. Probably while he was halfway across the world hoping for her misery.

He glanced away in shame.

When Will still didn't speak, Mac reached a hand towards him, placing it lightly on his forearm to get his attention. She'd seen the guilt on his face. It was something she was familiar with, and not something she wanted for him (not something he deserved). "Billy…"

Will turned back around to stare at her, the anger replaced by something else, his hand sought out the scar again. She was here. Still here. Standing in front of him. Alive.

"I'm fine, Billy," she assured him, ordering her face not to break. When he looked at her like that... She swallowed, and willed him to keep looking at her, to see that she was standing in front of him. "I'm fine. I'm right here. I got hurt, but I'm fine."

And then suddenly, his hand was sliding back along the edge of her scar before moving further around her waist. Underneath her shirt.

His other arm snaked around her, higher up on her back. Mac barely had time to gasp before Will crushed her to his chest in a hug so tight she could feel every button on his clothing (and she never wanted him to let her go). She let out a quiet sob without even realizing it, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, trying to catalogue the feel of him in her arms.

His hand was so warm against her skin.

She heard his soft gasp against her chest and felt her heart crack.

Mac threaded a hand through his hair, stroking her thumb against his hair trying to soothe, to reassure. She murmured that she was fine. She was alive. She was okay. And then for good measure (and because he deserved it) added some mostly incomprehensible codas about the importance of not taking too many antidepressants when alone in one's apartment. And he was an idiot, but she was fine. She was fine, and she was here.

She wouldn't have though it possible, but his grip tightened momentarily at that. So Mac decided it was only fair that hers did too.

After all, if she didn't let go, maybe he wouldn't either.

xxx

You could have heard a pin drop in the psychiatrist's office.

Will was the first to break it. "She got hurt," he said hollowly.

"Yes," Jack agreed. That had come up in his father's files as well, so he was well aware that Mackenzie had been injured while away on assignment.

"Really hurt," Will said in that same emotionless tone.

"You knew about that," Jack reminded him.

That did the trick. "_She has a fucking scar,_" Will hissed. "A big one."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "She does."

"And?" Will asked incredulously.

"And what?" Jack wondered.

Will stared at his shrink, anger bubbling up for the man in front of him. "And is that all you're going to say?"

"Of course not," Jack replied. "I was waiting to see if there was anything else you wanted to say first."

"Like what?" Will demanded. "Like how Mackenzie could have _died_ while she was over there."

"But she didn't," Jack reminded his patient calmly. He should have known this was coming. Now that Will was slowly acknowledging that Mackenzie was back in his life, he was eventually going to have to come to grips with the fact that he could have lost her. Whereas before, at least in Will's mind, while Mac was overseas and injured, he'd lost her already.

"It looked like it was close," Will muttered.

"But she's _fine_, Will," Jack told him. "And yes, it could have been worse, but Mac could get hit by a bus on the street tomorrow, or you could, or Sloan, or Charlie, or Don, or me, or anyone else you know. Life is random, and a risk."

"She was only over there..." Will muttered.

"Yes?" Habib prompted.

Will took a breath. "I said she was only over there..." he swallowed.

Jack finished the sentence for him. "She was only over there because the two of you broke up."

"Yeah," Will sighed.

"I thought it was an amazing career opportunity," Jack reminded the anchor.

"It _was_," Will admitted. "It was. Of course it was. But if we'd still been together, maybe... I mean, if..."

"If she hadn't cheated on you," Habib suggested.

Will shook his head violently. This wasn't her fault. Mac getting stabbed wasn't some cosmic retribution for her sins, though he was sure the idea had crossed her mind, the crazy woman. But that was an issue for another day. First he had to deal with this one, with the events that had led up to her leaving. "Or if I'd just _forgiven _her."

Habib frowned. "Will, you not forgiving Mackenzie for betraying you and then subsequently ending your relationship did not cause her to get stabbed in the abdomen. This is not your fault."

"I know that," Will insisted. "I actually know that, but..."

"But?" Jack asked.

"It feels like it is," Will admitted.

"Will," Jack said softly. "You can't..."

"I know," the older man replied. "I know. It's just, thinking about..."

"Have you talked to Mackenzie about it?" Habib asked. He probably should. It might help.

To Jack's surprise, Will smiled slightly. "Actually, I have."

xxx

Eventually, after the all-consuming panic in his chest eased a little, Will realized that he would eventually have to release Mackenzie from his death grip. With a soft sigh, he eased her out of his arms. He met her eyes, surprised by the pain he saw in them. For a moment he was afraid he'd hurt her, before he realized that her pain was on his behalf. The idea nearly brought him to his knees. He reached a hand up to caress her cheek, stroking a finger along her cheekbone.

He watched some of the sadness in her eyes shift to confusion. That made him happy somehow,

So with an attempt at a smile, he squeezed her waist one more time with his other arm, before leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

With that, he stepped away from her, pausing to squeeze her hand along the way.

"Billy," Mac whispered.

Will shook his head. "Finish getting changed," he said gently. "We'll talk later."

Mackenzie nodded after a moment, before realizing that he probably did need his space. "Okay."

With that he was gone.

But Will didn't stay away long. Half an hour later (after a walk around the building to clear his head), he was knocking on Mackenzie's door again. He waited until he heard her "Come in!" this time before opening it.

She was reading a file at her desk and looked surprised to see him, though she smiled when he entered. Will supposed she'd probably been expecting him to hide in his office for the rest of the day and avoid her as much as possible. Part of him wanted to, but that wasn't fair, to either of them. And probably wasn't a good idea anyway. Besides, he didn't want her to think this was somehow her fault.

So here he was, back in her office, ready to try and talk. Though there was something to do before that. Will placed a full latte on her desk in front of her. "Since I'm guessing you didn't get to drink much of yours earlier," he said.

Mac's face lit up. "I didn't," she agreed. "Thank you."

Will waved away her thanks and sat down opposite her. "So, I thought my scar from shoulder surgery was bad, but I'm pretty sure you've got that competition in the bag now," he said, trying to joke.

Mac wasn't sure how she'd been expecting him to approach the subject, but that wasn't it. Not that she minded. "I always was tougher than you," she snarked.

Will couldn't help smiling back at her. The woman just looked so delicate. But he knew looks could be deceiving. "Yeah."

Mackenzie smiled back before deciding to just bite the bullet. She steeled herself slightly. "Look, I know it's not the most attractive thing in the world, but I really am..."

Will frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean it's not the most attractive thing in the world?" he demanded.

Mac looked at him incredulously. "Come on Will, you saw it."

Will was staring at her like she'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "I did see it. It's a line across your stomach. It's not like you have some weird growth."

"Will!"

"It's not that bad," he insisted. He could understand being a bit self-conscious about the thing, but he'd never thought Mac was particularly vain. Anyway, that wasn't the point, "I didn't I mean, it's not like I thought you were hideous and disfigured," he told her.

"Oh well, I'm glad to hear it," Mackenzie said dryly.

Will ignored that. "That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Mackenzie asked, wondering idly when she'd gotten so annoyed.

Will was wondering the same thing. "The point is, you were reporting in a war zone, it's dangerous." the anchor said slowly, as if speaking to a particularly slow child. Then his voice picked up speed. "You covered a war zone. More than one actually. Do you know how many people have done that? Do you know how fucking proud of you I was, am? I mean, _Christ_ _Mac_. I was angry at you, but then I'd catch a bit of one of your pieces... You did what every journalist dreams of doing, if they're brave enough. You went into the middle of a war, and you told the story, because you thought that people back here in their safe little worlds needed to hear it. And they did need to hear it, even if a lot of them chose not to listen. Those Peabodies were well-deserved." He cleared his throat, realizing he was getting away from himself. But he hated the idea that she might somehow think of herself as damaged somehow, or less attractive. And maybe she didn't, but he wanted to make sure she knew that he... "Anyway, if anything that scar is a fucking badge of honour, and anyone who says differently is an idiot."

Mac was staring at him, tears pooling in her eyes. She hadn't realized how much she'd wanted to hear him say that. "When I started this conversation, I was just going to say I was fine," she croaked after a moment.

Will stared at her, willing himself to calm down. "Oh. "

"Yeah," Mac barely whispered.

"Okay."

Mac tried to smile. "Billy..."

He interrupted her. "It's not unattractive. You're not..."

"Will?" Mac prompted, realizing that he'd been circling around something since he'd first walked in and she should probably just let him say it (especially if he was going to say lovely things like what he'd said earlier).

Will tried to force the words out. "What I mean is, that wasn't why, before when I... It wasn't because... I just, I don't like the idea of you getting hurt, and I know I already knew about it, the attack I mean. But when I saw the scar, I don't know... Anyway, I just don't like the idea of you getting hurt. That's all." He glanced down. "I don't like the idea that you could have been killed where you were away.

Mac tried to ignore her skittering heart. "I wasn't," she reminded him.

He looked up. "I know."

"And hey, I'm not the one who gets all the death threats," she tried to joke.

Oddly enough it did make Will feel better. After all, New York could be dangerous too. "I guess you're right."

"I am right," Mackenzie told him, finding a genuine smile. "And don't you forget it."

"I'll try not to," Will assured her with a hint of a smile of his own.

"Okay," Mackenzie replied with a beaming smile.

"Okay?" Will asked, wondering if that meant everything or just...

"Good," Mackenzie assured him.

Will was beginning to think she meant all of it. "Yeah."

That was when Mac started to feel a bit awkward. "Right. Well..."

Will sent her one last smile before standing to let her get back to work. "I'm glad you're okay, Mackenzie."

"Thank you," Mackenzie said softly. Biting her lip as he left. She glanced at her brand new latte and her smile grew. She had to admit, she was glad that he was glad.

xxx

"So, I mean, we talked," Will told the man sitting opposite him. "We talked yesterday. And things were _fine._ They were. I thought I was _fine._ And then last night..."

"The insomnia came back? Jack guessed.

"Not exactly," Will replied.

"Nightmares?" Jack wondered.

"I don't know, maybe," Will told him. "I just, when I was alone again, I couldn't stop get it out of my head, imagining what it must have been like, imagining what would have happened if the knife had been a little higher, if..."

"You can't torture yourself like that, Will," Jack told him. "She's _fine_, she told you she was. You see her almost every day. Yes, something terrible could have happened, but it _didn't._ You need to remember that."

"I told you, I know that!" Will snapped. He stood and began pacing the office again. "Sorry," he said tersely.

Jack waved away the apology and waited for the anchor to continue.

"I _know_ she's fine," Will said again. "I _know_ that I didn't send her out there, that I didn't cause her to get hurt, that... I _know_ all of that. _That's_ not the point."

Jack watched the other man, knowing he was missing a mental link of some kind. "Will, what is the point?" he asked gently.

Will spun around and practically exploded. "The point is that she went away and she got hurt!"

"Yes, I understand that," Jack agreed calmly. "But she's back in New York."

"And we've been getting along better," Will replied. "We've been getting along better lately..."

"And..." Jack prompted

"And her contract's up in less than a year!" Will yelled.

And suddenly it all clicked into place for his psychiatrist.

But Will wasn't done. "Her contract's up in less than a year! When she signed it, she joked that it was the longest she'd ever stayed in one place, _ever._ Not exactly known for her stability, is Mackenzie. Christ, she ran off to the Middle East for three years after we ended things, _three years._ Last time she left she got _hurt._ She almost _died._"

"And?" Jack asked, knowing the answer to the question, but wanting the other man to say it all the same.

The anger suddenly drained out of Will's face, replaced with an almost heartbreaking hopelessness. "And what if she's getting restless again? What if she wants a new adventure? What if she doesn't want to stay? What if she leaves the show?"

_What if she leaves me?_ he thought, but didn't say.

They'd been getting along so much better lately.

xxx

TBC


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: Look! It's a quick update. Basically it's a result of this chapter and the last one being one massive chapter in my mind, and as such being relatively well planned out. This one picks up immediately after the last one ended. I hope you enjoy it!

Oh, and I wanted to say thank you to everyone who's reviewing. I'm really enjoying reading your feedback, so thanks!

xxx

_Previously on The Newsroom:_

_But Will wasn't done. "Her contract's up in less than a year! When she signed it, she joked that it was the longest she'd ever stayed in one place, ever. Not exactly known for her stability, is Mackenzie. Christ, she ran off to the Middle East for three years after we ended things, three years. Last time she left she got hurt. She almost died."_

_"And?" Jack asked, knowing the answer to the question, but wanting the other man to say it all the same._

_The anger suddenly drained out of Will's face, replaced with an almost heartbreaking hopelessness. "And what if she's getting restless again? What if she wants a new adventure? What if she doesn't want to stay? What if she leaves the show?"_

_What if she leaves me? he thought, but didn't say._

_They'd been getting along so much better lately._

xxx

Jack Habib watched the man sitting across from him carefully. He should have seen this coming. In a lot of ways, hating Mackenzie had probably been much easier for Will for any number of reasons. Not the least of which was that if Will hated her, he could tell himself that it didn't hurt when she wasn't around anymore. Whereas it would obviously hurt if she left him now. The psychiatrist didn't bother asking Will if he wanted Mackenzie to stay. The answer to that was obvious. Besides, Jack wanted Will to try to look at things logically (often not an easy task when emotions were involved).

"Do you have any reason to think that Mackenzie wants to leave?" Habib asked.

Will paused. "Not specifically, no," he admitted.

Habib nodded. He'd assumed as much.

But Will wasn't done. "On the other hand, I also don't specifically know that she wants to stay. Don't have any evidence either way"

Habib frowned. He wasn't sure that was strictly true, but he suspected that Will wasn't done, so didn't interrupt.

"I mean, she's never really said…" Will trailed off. "We've never discussed what would happen after three years. I guess when she originally started, I assumed I'd fire her long before her contract was up. And then..."

"Then?"

"Then things changed," Will acknowledged.

"Yeah," Habib agreed.

Will decided to ignore his psychiatrist's tone. "Anyway, Mac's always loved adventure, always loved a challenge. Maybe Newsnight isn't enough of a challenge for her anymore. And if she decides that she's ready for something new, I mean, it's not like…"

"It's not like what, Will?" Habib asked gently.

Will stared at his hands for a moment. "It's not like I can ask her to stay. She needs to live her own life. I don't have a claim on her. It's not like I can guarantee that, that… Anyway, if she thinks another assignment is what's best for her career, or she's sick of being stuck in the same newsroom every night, or even if she just wants a change, well then, maybe she _should_ go."

Habib was very careful to keep both his facial expression and tone neutral. "Maybe she should."

Will glared at him. He wondered if once, just once, his own goddamn psychiatrist would take his side on something, anything. "Well, thanks Doc."

Habib leaned forward. Will had been doing a very good job of trying to play the supportive friend and colleague when it came to his producer, but he'd forgotten one key fact. And Habib was going to remind him of that. "Maybe there are reasons why Mackenzie _could_ decide it's time to find a new job, and I stress the word _could_, but that doesn't mean that she _will_. Particularly since at this point all those reasons you just came up with? They're purely hypothetical."

"What?" Will asked. He didn't think his confusion was unwarranted. Those last few sentences hadn't exactly been straightforward.

"Have you asked her if she's getting bored with your show?" Jack asked bluntly.

"No," Will admitted. He was hardly going to ask _that._

"Why not?" Jack demanded.

"Because I'm not going to ask her that," Will insisted stubbornly.

Habib smirked, but let it slide. For now. "Okay. But even though you may not have an official claim on her, you are well within your rights to tell her you want her to stay. Have you at least done _that?_ Have you talked to her about this at all?"

"No," Will muttered.

"Well, that's absolutely shocking," Jack replied, deliberately sarcastic. Will was in desperate need of a push, and if provoking him was the only way to do that, well Jack was more than happy to oblige.

Will's reaction was predictable. "Hey! This isn't easy you know."

Jack softened slightly, but only slightly. "I know. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. Because Will, you _are_ allowed to say, Mackenzie, I think what we're doing here together is worthwhile. Mackenzie, I think what we're doing here is something I'd like to keep doing. Mackenzie, I want you to stay on as my executive producer. Hell, you could even go for broke and say, Mackenzie, you're my friend, and as such I would prefer it if you stayed in New York City as opposed to traipsing off to parts unknown. You are allowed to say _all_ of that."

Will waved a hand in the air in a gesture whose meaning even he wasn't sure of. "I know that!"

"But?" Habib prompted.

Will paused. "But if I _ask_ her, maybe she'll only agree because..."

"Because?"

Will sighed and glanced away. "Because she thinks she owes me, or something."

Habib leaned forward slightly. Well, this was an interesting development. Will _had_ been thinking about this. "You think Mac would stay in a job she hated out of guilt?"

"Who knows what she'd do?" Will grumbled.

Habib didn't bother pointing out that Will seemed to be doing his best to guess. Instead he just murmured a subtle reprimand. "_Will..._"

The anchor sighed and conceded. "I think her guilt is not to be underestimated," he admitted, trying not to fidget with his hands.

Habib leaned back in his chair. Now they were getting somewhere. "And that worries you?"

"I guess so."

Jack could see that it did. Unfortunately, this was a situation where there was really only one piece of advice he could give. "Will..."

And apparently Will knew it, because he interrupted before Jack could even say it. "I know, I know... I need to talk to Mackenzie."

Jack smiled, making a note of the resignation in Will's voice. The anchor had known exactly how their conversation was going to go before it started. Oh well. That was one of the things about therapy. Sometimes a person just needed someone else to tell them what they already knew. "I'm going to consider it progress that you're at least recognizing that fact," the young doctor told his patient cheerfully.

"Yeah, you've been as sympathetic as always," Will grumbled.

"Well, I'll still be here next week," Jack replied.

"Great," Will muttered, standing up. It'd been a long session and to be honest, he was glad it was over. He was feeling almost emotionally exhausted. And in a few short hours, he'd be seeing Mackenzie again. He was definitely going to need some coffee first.

"Will," Jack said.

The anchor turned. "Hm?"

"You _are_ allowed to tell her that you like working with her and that you like being her friend," Jack reminded him one more time for good measure. "You are allowed to tell her that you're glad she's around."

Will held the younger man's eyes. He knew the doc only had the best intentions, but... Although, on the other hand, if he did talk to Mackenzie, at least he'd _know._ But what if...

Will shook his head slightly. "Yeah," he said quietly, before slipping out of the room.

xxx

A week later, Jack Habib was fidgeting with the books on his bookshelves. He tried to tell himself it wasn't because he was a little worried about his upcoming session, but even he didn't believe it. Because he _was_ nervous about the session. Well, not nervous exactly. But, something.

Will was walking on uneven ground, and Jack was always afraid that any given week could result in some kind of massive setback. It wouldn't take much. Things were so delicate, in the newsroom, between Will and Mackenzie, even just in Will's head. Each week, Habib found himself making bets in his own mind, trying to predict how Will would be feeling when he walked through the door.

This week, Jack had no idea what he was in for. He was pretty sure nothing would surprise him. After all, if Will _hadn't_ talked to Mackenzie, his mood could be anything from frustration to outright denial. If he _had_, well the result could be anything from despair to joy (or the closest thing to it that Will got to it).

Jack knew he had no way of knowing which it would be until Will arrived. Still, he couldn't stop himself from running through the possibilities.

Luckily, the door opened, cutting off his mental inventory.

Habib turned to greet the man walking into his office.

To his surprise, he realized that he'd somehow managed to miss a possibility. As he sat down, Jack examined the man opposite him (who still hadn't said anything more than a polite greeting).

It wasn't what he'd expected.

Will didn't look particularly upset or frustrated or even happy. He just looked... sheepish.

Habib settled into the other chair, determined not to start things off this week.

"So you may have been right," Will admitted eventually.

Habib raised his eyebrows. That was different. Their session had barely started and already it was full of surprises. "I'm sorry?"

Will sighed. He should have known the teenager would be smug about that. Still, he supposed he could admit it again. "You may have been right."

"I'm glad I could help," Habib replied. "But about what?"

Will just stared at the man sitting opposite him, deciding that he wasn't going to deign to answer such an obvious question.

"I'm a therapist Will," Jack reminded him. "I give out a lot of advice to my patients. Really, I can think of any number of things I might have been right about, and that's just in the last few weeks."

Will tried to glare, but Jack was pretty sure he could see a hint of a smirk threatening to form.

Jack didn't rise to the bait, still determined to wait the other man out.

Will seemed to recognize that, because after a moment he sighed. "I talked to Mackenzie."

"I know," Jack admitted. The fact was breathtakingly obvious from the other man's demeanour alone.

"Well if you knew that, then why didn't you just..." Will exploded in irritation.

"Because I just wanted to mess with you," Habib replied candidly.

"Great," Will muttered. "Just great. I come to you to help sort out all the crap in my head, and you decide to add to it."

"What can I say?" Habib asked. "Every so often, I take a break from being wise and omnipotent for my own entertainment."

"Well, I'm so glad you decided to take a little vacation from your job in the middle of my session," Will replied, amused in spite of himself.

"You can take it," Jack replied bluntly. Actually, Will could more than take it. He _needed_ it from time to time, a little silliness to shake him out of himself. Without a challenge, he'd get bored, and Jack had no intention of letting Will get bored with therapy. The man seriously needed it. Before the anchor could reply, Jack decided it was time to turn the conversation back to the subject at hand. "What did Mackenzie have to say?"

"I don't know if I want to tell you now," Will grumbled.

The younger man smiled. He'd known this would be the price he'd pay for his teasing, but he held the trump card today. Because he was pretty sure Will _wanted_ to tell him the story. "Will, what did Mackenzie say?"

"She said lots of things," Will replied evasively.

Jack nodded. "Well, then why don't you start at the beginning?"

Will sighed, and did.

xxx

Mackenzie McHale was trying not to worry.

She was not succeeding, but she was trying. And she felt foolish because of it.

But Will was acting oddly. He _was_.

It was nothing she could put her finger on, but he seemed almost distracted. Distracted, but also... not. He'd gotten through the show nearly flawlessly (a bit of a stumble over the word _threshold_ midway through the D block, but he'd pulled it together in time). Nothing obvious had happened in the newsroom that day, but Mac was sure she was right.

That was why she was still in her office even though they were done to for the day, finishing up a bit of paperwork that couldn't have been less urgent.

Because she was pretty sure Will was also still around, and she wanted to know why. In fact, she was determined to know why. He'd seemed a little off for a while. Ever since, well, ever since he'd accidentally seen her scar (ever since he'd held her so tightly she'd thought he might squeeze the breath out of her lungs). Since then he'd still been _Will_, alternating between sweet and irritated, between kind and concerned, between anxious and unbelievably calm. And watching her, always watching her. Though she wasn't sure what he was looking for (or what he saw).

Part of her wanted to march right into his office and demand an explanation; part of her was afraid to for fear what she might find. If only she had something more obvious to go on, an actual tangible thing to use as leverage, as opposed to just a feeling...

Mac sighed.

"Long day?" a familiar voice in her doorway asked.

Mac glanced up, unsurprised to see him there. A stray thought struck her; suddenly she couldn't help wondering if he'd been waiting _her_ out. She swallowed. "You would know; you were there for most of it."

Will raised his eyebrows. "Most?"

"Well, you did have that meeting with Charlie this afternoon," Mac reminded him.

"Right," Will replied, stepping into her office. "I meant you're here late."

"So are you," Mac countered easily.

Will nodded absently. He'd been turning the problem over and over in his brain, and he still couldn't think of a good way to bring it up. "What're you doing?"

Mac shrugged. "Just catching up on some paperwork."

Will nodded."Ah yes, the scourge of any large corporation." Then inspiration struck, "A bit different than being out in the field, isn't it?"

Mac leaned back in her chair, surprised by the question. She could count the number of times that Will had referred, even obliquely, to the three years she'd spent in the Middle East on... no hands. "Yeah, but on the other hand, this office is more comfortable than driving around in a Jeep in the desert."

"So, trade-off then?" Will asked lightly.

Mac smiled. "Guess so."

Will cleared his throat. He needed to say it. He knew he'd never get a better opportunity. "Do you ever miss it?" he blurted out quickly.

"A Jeep in the desert?" Mac asked in confusion.

Wills smiled in spite of himself. "Being a field reporter."

Mac considered the question, sensing that the answer was important to him. "I suppose I do," she said eventually. "Some days at least. The excitement, the urgency, the exhilaration. The sense that you're _right there_ while the story's happening. Knowing that you're the reason people back home know something, because you're there to tell them."

Will wasn't entirely pleased with that answer. "Right."

But Mac wasn't done. "On the other hand, there's the constant having to set up equipment in terrible locations, trying to find good light or sound levels, or even just somewhere safe to stand. And it feels like you spend most of the time travelling, all the driving, the fact that you live out of a suitcase, staying at terrible motels, and never being able to find a quiet moment alone."

Will decided to go for the joke to buy himself a little time. "Wow Mac, don't make it sound so glamorous."

"That's one word for it," Mac replied dryly.

"What's another?" Will asked, trying not to hope that the answer was something like 'horrendous' or 'literally once-in-a-lifetime.'

"There are millions," Mac told him. "Thrilling, a rush," her voice dropped. "Dangerous."

Will winced, remembering the slash across her body. "I'm sorry."

Mac waved it off, "I'm fine."

He took a step towards her, realizing suddenly that he'd spent so much of the last week trying to sort through how he felt about her scar that he hadn't really given that much thought to how his reaction had affected _her. _Maybe he should... "Mac..."

But she was already moving on with their earlier conversation. "On the other hand, there's no job like it in the world."

Will frowned. He tried to hide it, but Mac caught a bit of it anyway. "Why?" she asked.

Will shrugged, not quite ready to reveal his real reason for opening this particular line of questioning. "Just wondering. Curious if you'd ever want to go back, I guess."

Now it was Mac's turn to frown. She'd loved field reporting, she had. Then she'd been stabbed, and it'd lost a bit of its lustre. Working the Middle East, in a war zone was an amazing experience, but, she wasn't sure if it was something she wanted again. Why was Will pushing this? Suddenly a (horrible) niggling thought popping up in the back of her brain that wouldn't be squashed back down. She shrugged, desperate to play it cool. "Not really," she said lightly. "Why? You trying to get rid of me?"

Will tried not to panic. "No!" he said (far too quickly to sound suave, or really anything other than frantic). "_Of course not,_ I was just... curious."

Mac narrowed her eyes. She was beginning to seriously doubt that this conversation had been prompted by pure _curiosity._ After all, something really had been off _all week_. Probably something to do with her and her god damn scar. "So you said."

"It's true," Will insisted.

But Mac wasn't convinced. She'd known him too long and too well to be fooled by that lie.

She stood and walked around her desk to meet him on a level playing field. She crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Billy..."

He just stared right back at her. "Plus, it occurred to me the other day, we're well into that final third year of your contract."

Shock shot through Mac, followed by an insurmountable bubble dread. "I guess we are," she said hollowly.

"And I know you like change," Will continued, sensing somehow that things might not be going like he wanted, but unsure as to why or how to stop it. So he figured he may as well continue, "Hell, you said it yourself on your first day at ACN. When was the last time you ever signed a contract for longer than three years?"

Mac shut her eyes against the pain and tried to stop her shoulders from sagging. "Seriously, Will, if this is a hint..."

Will strode across the room until he was standing right in front of her. "No!" he insisted.

Mac opened her eyes and dropped her arms to her sides. "Okay."

But Will could tell at a glance that she didn't believe him. "Fuck, Mac!"

Mac could feel irritation mixing in the pain. "Well, what were you expecting me to think?"

"That... That..." Will paused, not quite able to say it. Not so directly at least.

"That what?" Mac pressed, desperate for an answer (almost any answer would be better than what was pounding through her own brain).

Will ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "There are three things I'm supposed to say to you," he tried to explain. Three big ones at least. He'd counted.

Mac wasn't sure why that made it worse, but it did. Was it wrong for her to want him to _want_ to say things to her as opposed to feeling a sense of obligation? "_Supposed_ to?"

"According to Jack," Will grumbled.

"Jack?" Mac asked, to mixed up to make the connection.

"Dr. Habib," Will told her.

That caught her attention, made her pause in her panic. "You talk about this with..."

"Of course I talk about you with my psychiatrist," Will growled. "Who else am I going to talk about?"

"I don't know, some other woman who fucked up your life!" Mac snapped, not sure why was trying to provoke him. Scar notwithstanding, she'd finally started feeling like the ground was getting a little bit stable under her feet (maybe even under _their_ feet), and now she was feeling vulnerable all over again. So she did what she always did when she felt exposed, she reacted with sarcasm.

"That's not what I meant!" Will all but yelled, wondering when yet another conversation had gone off the rails. They'd been doing better lately; he'd thought that maybe they'd be able to get through this. That he'd be able to... _Fuck. _He could deliver fucking verbal oratory on air without a prompter; why couldn't he string a coherent sentence together when it came to how he felt about her? Will could practically feel the waves of hurt rolling off of Mackenzie now. If she hadn't wanted to leave Newsnight _before_, she probably would soon if he kept on like this.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, time out!" he ordered. "Just time out. Just, please. Give me a second. I... I said this wrong. I didn't... Let me say it better. Okay Mac? Just... just give me a second."

Mac forced herself to calm down, tried to be a little less defensive. That was the problem with royally fucking up your life. You tended to assume everything bad that happened was your fault. If he wanted to explain, she'd let him.

"There are three things that I have to say to you," Will murmured, trying not to fidget with his pockets.

Mac decided _I have to_ was better than _I'm supposed to_.

"Three things I _want_ to say to you," he muttered (Mac decided that was best of all). Will's next breath was audible, but he forced himself to look her in the eye. "One, I like working with you; you're the best producer I've ever had. The only one I can imagine working with long term, because no one else is as good. You know that. Two, I like our show. I like making our show. I want to keep doing that. With you. If you want to. I know I can't.. I mean, I know it'll be your choice. I'm not trying to force you into or, or make you feel obligated or... whatever. And, three..." Will paused before just deciding the hell with it. "Three, apart from all that, I'd like it if you stayed in New York. I like... I like that we're friends. I like having someone around who instinctively understands things like the importance of moving things around in the control room just to screw with Don before the 10 o'clock. So, uh, yeah. I guess I just wanted to say that we're friends, and, and, I like it when you live in the same city as I do. There, that's all."

To Will's shock, his declaration caused Mackenzie to drop her chin to her chest and burst into slightly hysterical laughter. Laughter that got more hysterical by the second as her shoulders started to shake and her sobs became mixed in with it. Will tried not to retreat into himself at the sound.

"_You idiot!"_ Mac managed to catch her breath long enough to choke out, looking up at him with an absolutely incandescent smile (and tears running down her cheeks).

Will barely had a second for his confusion to register before she'd launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around him like a vice. "You complete and utter idiot!" she said again, sobbing in relief.

Will tentatively wrapped his arms around her, patting her on the shoulder. Maybe, for once, he'd managed to do something better than he'd originally thought.

"How can someone with such a big brain be so _stupid?_" Mac sobbed into his neck and punching him in the shoulder (before soothing the abused area as she wrapped her arm back around him).

"Hey!" Will objected, turning slightly into her hair. "I hardly think that..."

Mac overrode him. "I thought you were sounding me out because you were leading up to telling me that what with my contract coming up for renewal, now might be a good time for me to think about finding another job! Maybe leaving and going back out in the field and, and... _leaving_. You _idiot._"

Will was pretty sure he actually was an idiot if he'd managed to give her that impression. Though he wasn't quite sure how it'd happened, and was also fairly certain she was at least halfway to blame (not that he said any of that). Instead he just tightened his arms around her a little and leaned his head against hers. "I was trying to see if you were thinking about a change," he tried to explain.

"Idiot," Mac muttered again into his shoulder.

"Well, how was I supposed to know you wanted to stay?" Will asked helplessly.

Mac frowned and pulled back. Much as she always enjoyed being in his arms, if he thought that, then they needed to get something straight. Right now. "Billy, this is _our_ show."

"I know," he assured her. "I know you love the show, Mac..."

She stared at him. If he knew she loved the show, then why had he thought she wanted to leave? "Do you?"

Will tried to explain. "I just thought, you know, I thought you might be looking for another challenge. That's all."

"Okay, well, first of all, you're challenge enough for _anyone_," Mac assured him.

Will tried to roll his eyes, but wasn't quite able to.

"And second of all, you look at me Billy. Look at me, and listen carefully. Let's get one thing straight _right now._ I love this show. I love this newsroom. I love being an executive producer, _your_ executive producer. I love that it's in my job description to kick your ass when you need it. I love that I get to be in control of you for an hour..."

"No kidding," Will muttered under his breath, slightly frightened by the feeling of his heart racing in his chest.

Mac ignored him and kept going, determined to drive her point home. "I stuck it out through the first few months when I thought you were going to fire me literally every week. I was there on the days when you could barely stand to be in the same room as me, let alone actually speak to me. I was there for Casey Anthony and all the other times you got scared of the ratings. I was there when you were _high_ on the air. I was there when Leona tried to fire you. I was there through your idiot plan to put _Brian _in our newsroom. I was there for all of it. Did you not see me."

"I did," Will assured her quietly.

But Mac was on a roll. "Do you really think I'm going to leave now that things are actually working? I _love_ Newsnight. I _love_ our show. This is the best job I've ever had. And I am going to fight for it. And I'm crafty. I'm not going to let it go. They'll have to pry it from my cold dead hands. The only way you're going to get rid of me is if _you_ decide you can't work with _me_, and you order me gone. Because I've stuck it out through all of your shit, Will. There isn't anything you can throw at me now that I can't handle. _I love our show._"

Will stared at the woman in front of him. This tiny woman, who right now was practically an explosion of emotion and expansive gestures. Who was making a speech like she was ready to lead a battle charge. "I just thought..."

"And yes!" Mac admitted. "Okay, yes! In the past I've maybe bounced around a little professionally. Sometimes I maybe even seemed a little indecisive. But here's the thing Billy, I'm older now. I've had a lot of time to think about this. I've had three years to..."

Will froze.

And all of a sudden Mac turned quiet. Quiet, intense, _convincing._ "I've had a lot of time," she said again, her eyes never leaving his, barely blinking. "I had lots of time to think, and I thought about a lot of things. Then, when I was done thinking, I made some decisions. They took time. But I made them. I know what I want. Being a field reporter was incredible. But it's not what I want anymore. I want to be an EP. I want to run a newsroom. I want this show. I want... this life. And I'm stubborn, Billy. Very stubborn. You know I am. Once I make up my mind, it stays made up. And my mind's made up. I know _exactly_ what I want. I want Newsnight. And I'm_ sure._"

Will could only stare at her. His throat was dry and he swore he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. He found his voice somehow, "So, if I handed you another three year contract right now?"

Mac didn't even falter (though she could feel the adrenaline starting to wear off now). "I'd sign it in a heartbeat."

Will concentrated very hard on ensuring his hands weren't trembling. "The lawyers might want to be involved, never mind your agent."

Mac just shrugged. "They can work out the details amongst themselves. You're stuck with me."

Will finally let himself breathe. "Okay."

"Although, I'm not signing anything that lets you fire me at the end of every week," Mac replied, deciding that she did have _one_ demand. Just a little one. "That nonsense is done."

Will chuckled. "Great! Maybe I'll get my three million dollars back."

"I'd focus more on that non-compete clause first, Billy," Mac suggested dryly.

Will could only agree. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

Then it was Will's turn to frown slightly, realizing there was at least one more thing to be said. "I don't want to fire you every Friday, Mac. I already told my agent to make sure they got rid of that next time around."

Mac's face lit up into a smile. "When did you do that?"

He waved a hand absently in her direction. "I don't know, six months ago, maybe."

"Billy..." she murmured. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged, not really wanting to get into it. She knew he wanted her to stay _now_, that was enough. "I wasn't trying to suggest you should leave, Mac."

She tilted her head up. "So you said." His numbered list of things that he had actually wanted to say had charmed her, even apart from the words themselves. For some reason she liked the idea that he'd planned out what he wanted to say to her. Sure, in the end he'd made a mess of it anyway, but the idea that she mattered enough for him to plan...

"Yeah."

Mac's grin turned teasing. "You want me to stay in New York on a personal level?"

Will saw the amusement on her face; he pulled her back against him so he couldn't anymore. "Yeah."

She sighed. "Me too," she murmured.

And with that, Will finally felt himself relax.

"Hey! We should celebrate!" Mac said suddenly.

Will looked down at her indulgently, in his current mood he was perfectly ready to go along with just about anything she suggested. "What did you have in mind?"

She frowned, considering the hour and what was still open. "I'm guessing you haven't eaten yet."

"You'd be guessing correctly," Will told her.

Mac bit her lip. "Steak sandwiches at the all-night diner down the street from my apartment?"

Will smirked. "You going to buy?"

"Hey! You're the one who's hoping for an extra three million in their next contract!" Mac reminded him.

But Will had a comeback ready. "You issued the invitation!"

Their argument lasted the entire way to the restaurant.

xxx

"So who paid, in the end?" Habib asked.

"She wouldn't let me," Will admitted. "So I bought her waffles the next morning."

"Of course you did," Jack muttered under his breath.

"What?" Will asked.

"Nothing."

"Okay," Will replied, deciding to let it slide. "Anyway..."

But Habib realized he did have a question after all. "Wait, waffles?"

"Sure," Will replied.

Habib just stared. _"Waffles?"_

"What's wrong with waffles?" Will asked innocently.

Jack shook his head. "Nothing's wrong with waffles, but aren't those usually a thing you buy someone when you're meeting up for breakfast, or at least eating breakfast together?"

"We were eating breakfast together," Will explained neutrally.

Habib just blinked. "You were?"

"Sure," Will confirmed. "Well, okay, it was probably more like brunch."

"Brunch?" Jack repeated.

"Yeah. With our schedules, sometimes meals get a little off-kilter," Will explained. "And if lunch is sometimes at three, then 11 has to be something else."

"Elevensies?" Jack suggested.

Will just stared at the younger man. He shook his head. "Anyway, by the time I got into work the next day, Mackenzie was already all fired up about something or other..."

Or just excited because she'd found out that one of her secret fears wasn't coming to pass, Jack thought to himself.

"And I've seen what that's like," Will continued. "She forgets to sit down and eat. So before she saw me, I went back downstairs and got her waffles."

"Right," Jack murmured, wondering if Will honestly thought this was something most peopled did for their 'close colleagues.'

"The good ones," Will assured the younger man. "With strawberries and chocolate on them."

"No whipped cream?" Jack asked dryly.

But Will just shook his head. "Mac doesn't like whipped cream."

Jack found himself smiling. "I assume she liked the waffles though."

"Yeah, though she had the nerve to lecture me about my cholesterol while we ate them," Will complained. "There was fruit on them and everything!"

"Oh well, in that case."

"Shut up."

Jack bit his tongue just in time. He'd been close to asking Will how many meals he thought he shared with Mackenzie in any given week on average. But Jack also didn't want to make the anchor defensive.

Instead he decided to gloat a little. "So, turns out Mackenzie didn't want to leave Newsnight at all."

"Don't push it," Will warned. "I already admitted you were right when I came in here."

Jack supposed he had. Still he had one more question. "Do you believe her?"

Will turned pensive. He glanced out the window. "You didn't see her," he said eventually.

"No," Jack agreed.

Will continued on as if he hadn't spoken. "Because if you had, you wouldn't have asked that question."

Jack nodded, even though Will wasn't looking at him. "Will?" he said after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"You might want to remember what she looked like," Jack suggested.

Will looked over at him, the question obvious on his face.

"For later," Jack explained. "Just in case." After all, he knew the anchor would have his doubts from time to time.

Will tensed, but after a moment he nodded.

His point made, Jack decided it was a good time to shift the subject a little and ask Will about his general health.

After all, Jack was sure there'd be plenty of time to come back to the subject of Mackenzie later.

xxx

TBC


	11. Chapter 10

A/N: This one is a bit of a filler chapter; it does serve a purpose in my head. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 10

xxx

This week, Jack was determined not to try to predict Will's mood when he walked into the room. Really, it could be anything. Things had been so up changeable over the last few weeks. Habib decided he would not have been surprised if Will walked in with smoke coming out of his ears because of something someone had said, or something Mackenzie had done. But Jack also would not have been surprised if Will strolled in and casually informed him that he and Mac had eloped to Vegas (okay, Jack might have been a little surprised at that, but not _very_).

Jack's imagination did mean that it was something of a letdown when Will walked in the room looking relatively normal. Maybe a little nervous, but not very. Nothing significant.

"Hey Doc," the man said as he folded his coat over the chair behind him.

"Will," Habib greeted back, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Will sat.

"So how are you this week?" Jack asked.

Will shrugged. "Can't complain. Adjusting, I guess."

The answer was curious. "Adjusting?"

Will shrugged. "To change. Or maybe just life."

"What's changed then?" Habib asked.

Will sighed. "Nothing much. I mean, it's not a big deal."

"Tell me anyway," Habib instructed.

Will shuffled in his chair. "It's really not a major thing. It's not... there hasn't been some massive shift in my day to day experience in the last week. It's just, well, sometimes the things you do have unintended consequences."

"Like when you rail against the internet, start policing your comments section and then the next day you have a death threat?" Jack suggested.

Will almost smiled. "Something like that, except less murderous."

"Okay."

"I told Mackenzie before that I wanted to keep working with her, that I wanted her to stick around," Will said slowly, essentially recapping their last session in one sentence.

"Yes, you did," Jack agreed. "Have you changed your mind?" As a psychiatrist, the question was a reflex. Jack was used to patients running up to something, only to shrink back once they finally got there.

Apparently that wasn't Will's plan though. "No! Why would you…"

"Never mind," Jack said with a small wave of his hand. "Call it an occupational hazard. So you told Mackenzie that you want her around. And?"

"And…" Will dragged the word out. "And she really seems to have taken that and run with it."

xxx

Will McAvoy was not having a good day. He hadn't slept well the night before, not quite insomnia, but still not good. And he was pretty sure that the schizophrenic weather they'd been having was going to give him a headache. In fact, he could already practically feel the pain lurking around the edges of his mind, taunting him (the painkillers were keeping it at bay, but just barely). It wasn't so bad that he couldn't do his job, of course. He was okay. He just needed to get through the night's broadcast.

Unfortunately, fighting off a headache wasn't exactly helped by working in a Newsroom, with all the people running around and shouting across computers and any number of things. Which was why Will had decided to spend as much of the day as possible hiding in his office.

He hadn't been able to spend the whole day there, of course. He'd already grumbled at Charlie once. And he'd gone to the rundown meetings (where Will admitted there was a chance that he'd maybe snapped at people a couple of times when it hadn't been strictly necessary). He'd tried to let Mac lead the conversation as much as possible, but sometimes… Well, his irritation had been more out of impatience that the meeting was still going on than anything.

But now he was back in the sanctuary of his office, trying to write his script. And being reminded of why he really hated headaches.

They were so isolating. You had pain pressing in on your brain on all sides. It felt a little like the world was out to get you. You wanted to be alone, usually in low light, and you wanted the pain to go away. But until it did, you were stuck feeling like all of your reactions were off, as all background noise echoed around your skull. And half of what you did hear felt simultaneously close and far away. He'd still been able to hear the people in the newsroom at a distance. But they seemed separate somehow. While he was alone in his office.

Now, Will knew he wasn't the world's biggest people person, but after a few hours alone in a room, tension building around the base of his skull, well, a little human interaction wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world. Not that he was ready to brave the newsroom with its honest to god enthusiasm for life, or at least its enthusiasm for the news, or maybe just all its _youth._

He didn't want people around bugging him, but he didn't need to feel like a leper either.

Will tried to be philosophical. At least it wasn't the stomach flu.

Being sick when you lived alone wasn't any fun. Not that he was sick, but still. You had to go and buy your own supplies, make your own meals, do any number of things. And even if you were capable of doing it yourself, sometimes it was nice to have somebody fuss, just for a little while.

Will tried to refocus on his script.

A few minutes later, he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in," he called, trying hard not to snap (or even speak too loudly)

Mac stuck her head into the office. "Your headache feeling any better?" she asked softly, shutting the door gently behind her.

"I didn't say I had a headache," Will muttered. In fact, he was quite sure that every time someone asked, he'd assured them that he was _fine._

Mac just raised her eyebrows.

Will scowled. Irritatingly superior woman. "It's feeling a little better," he admitted finally.

Mac took a step towards him, examining him carefully. He didn't look too bad, but he had been holed up in his office for a while. She was getting concerned. "You okay to go on the air tonight?"

"I'm _fine_," Will told her a second time. "And if you're trying to say that you think I can't…"

Mac held up a hand, cutting off his rant. "I'm not trying to become the producer police, Will," she assured him. "I have no problem with you going on the air tonight. I've sent you on the air in worse condition. I just wanted to give you the option to sit this one out while I still have time to call in Elliot."

"I'm fine," Will said yet again.

Mac seemed to accept that this time. "Okay."

But then, and instead of leaving like Will had expected her to, Mac walked over to his couch, plunked herself down on it, and opened one of the files she'd been carrying.

"What are you doing?" Will asked in something like shock.

Mac kicked off her heels and stretched her legs out on his couch to get comfortable before answering his question. "Reading a file that I need to read before tonight's show."

Will just stared at her (and her stockinged feet), unsure what was going on. He didn't necessarily object, but... (there had to be a _but,_ didn't there?). "Here?

Mac didn't even look up from her file. "Yes."

"On my couch?" Will clarified, still watching the woman sitting across the room.

"Mmhm."

Will blinked. "Why?"

He watched her smile to herself. "Because I'm also hiding from Sloan."

The answer distracted him enough from his headache to make him smile too. Just a little. He leaned back in his chair. "Why?"

"Because she wants five more minutes tonight," Mac explained.

Will frowned. The show was practically planned now. Short of a bank actually blowing up, Sloan wasn't getting another five minutes to cover economics. "She can't have it."

"I know," Mackenzie assured him.

But for some reason Will felt the need to really be sure on this one. "I mean she really…"

Mac seemed to realize that because she finally turned towards him. "I know, Will. I told her that."

"And?" he wondered.

Mac went back to her papers with a shrug. "She's persistent."

Will might have laughed had it not been for the pain creeping up against the edges of his face. "So you're hiding."

"Yes."

"In here?" Will asked again.

But Mac didn't seem tired of answering that question, "Yes."

"Because _no one_ would ever think to look for you in my office," Will observed sarcastically. Honestly, it was probably the first place people looked if she wasn't in the studio, her own office or the conference room.

That made Mac smile. Because normally, his sarcasm would have been warranted. But not today. "Will, today no one would look for _anyone_ in your office. I think Sloan would check Charlie's office for me first."

"I haven't been that bad," Will grumbled.

Mac begged to disagree. "The staff spent most of the last rundown meeting wondering who you would glare at next."

"I was perfectly civil," Will defended.

"At least what you said out loud," Mac agreed. His glares had told another story.

"What do you want from me?" Will demanded.

"A little peace and quiet on your couch so I can finish this," Mac said lightly. "Now shush."

Will stared at her. Had he just gotten shushed in his own office? And he'd been the one searching for quiet all day. He started muttering under his breath about lunatic producers as he turned his attention back to his script.

So he missed Mac's little smile.

xxx

Once his righteous indignation had calmed down, Will admitted to himself that he actually didn't mind her sitting there. Because that was all that she was doing. Sitting. Just sitting on his couch.

Okay, she was reading through her own stack of files while he finished up his script.

She wasn't distracting him, or trying to talk, or anything.

She was just sitting.

With him.

It was kind of nice, the company.

It would have been nicer if the pain in the back of Will's skull hadn't been getting progressively worse over the past hour.

Will rolled his head along his shoulders, before glancing at the woman lounging on his couch like she owned it, absently biting on a pen. It'd been a while since he'd had a chance to watch her work. Not when she didn't know he was watching at least. And he didn't really have much of an opportunity now. She'd notice him looking at her any second.

He really didn't mind having her in his office.

He turned back to his script. Then frowned. "Did we decide that Congresswoman Wyatt was going in the D block?" he asked.

Mac looked up. "C block," she corrected. "We pushed her up in the last rundown meeting."

"Right," Will muttered, rubbing his neck and crossing something out. "I thought this didn't look right."

Mac frowned, watching him rub his own neck in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. "Have you taken anything for the pain?"

Will shook his head. "Not recently. I thought I'd wait until closer to the show, try and make sure the drugs don't wear off midway through."

Mac had to admit that made some sense. "Right."

"It's not that bad," Will assured her. The pain was bearable. He could still function, still work on his script. The headache just meant he was uncomfortable while he did it. And wishing he could take a nap.

Mac set her files aside and walked over to him, still looking concerned. "You sure?"

"It's just a headache Mackenzie," Will assured her.

"What do you think caused it?" she asked, coming around to perch on the corner of his desk. She scanned his face, trying to find some indication of excess pain, some idea of how he was really feeling. But Will had developed a pretty good poker face, so it wasn't easy.

Will looked up at her concerned eyes, and he tried to contain his sarcasm. The pain was making him more than a little cranky. "My best guess is the weather, though I suppose it could be anything. If I knew what had caused it, I might be able to make it better."

Mac patted him on the shoulder, her hand lingering slightly longer than it should have (slightly longer than it would have even a week before, Will realized suddenly). "I'm going to grab some coffee," she told him. "And I need to check on something with Jim. You want anything? Maybe a cup of tea? Might make you feel better."

He winced as she pulled her hand back. She was leaving. Of course. Obviously. Their little interlude was over. The tension in his skull intensified, and his tone got short. "No, I _don't _want any tea. I just want to do what I'm paid to do, write my script, give the people the news, which I am _perfectly capable_ of doing, by the way..."

Mac smiled, more indulgent than insulted. She stood up. "I know."

For some reason her expression irritated Will even more. "And then go home where no one is hovering around asking irritating questions," he muttered, momentarily distracted by how close she was standing. Why had he done that? Why was he snapping at her? She was going to get fed up with his shit and... and... And go work in her own office.

He didn't want her to go work in her office. Or at least, he wouldn't have minded if she decided to come back to his and hide for a little while longer.

Instead of getting annoyed with him and his nonsense, Mackenzie just watched him for a moment. For a second Will swore she saw through him. She seemed to see something in her examination, because she nodded to herself. "I'll get you some tea. And you need to keep hydrated, I've heard that's good for headaches. So maybe a bottle of water too."

Will wasn't sure how to respond to that. The relief was a shock. "You don't..."

"Can't have the on-air talent collapsing on air," Mac said lightly.

"I'm not going to _collapse on air_," Will assured her.

"Better safe than sorry," Mac replied.

"Mac..." Will groaned. "I'm _fine._"

"Even if you are," Mac said. "A cup of tea won't kill you. And I'm going to get you one no matter what you say, so you might as well..."

"Fine," Will interrupted, sure he sounded like a child, but beyond caring. He didn't have the energy to fight today. If she was going to be... stubborn, then he supposed he'd let her.

Mac just nodded again. "Tea. Mint. Or maybe not. I wonder if they have lavender... Probably not. Oh well. I'll figure it out."

"Whatever," Will muttered. Except that he was sure she would.

He was surprised when, instead of leaving, Mac turned and walked towards his bathroom.

Will tried to focus on work. But thirty seconds later she was back, and she wasn't heading for the door, but for him. He felt a cold cloth drop on his neck.

"Jesus Mac!" he hissed, nearly jumping out of his chair.

She held him in place with a hand on his shoulder. "Oh hold still, you big baby. It's just cold water and it'll make you feel better. I don't need you going on the air and snapping at America."

"I'm not going to snap at America!" Will growled. But his heart wasn't in it. He had to admit, the cold felt good against his skin

Mac smiled. He sounded exactly like a little boy. A little boy who was feeling badly enough to stay home for school, but wasn't really ill. Just whiny. Without thinking, Mac reached up and ran a comforting hand through his hair.

Will let his eyes close and leaned forward into her touch.

He'd always loved her hands (her hands on him was even better).

Realizing what she was doing, Mac almost pulled back guiltily, but his reaction stopped her, made her bolder. Instead she took a deep breath and slid her hand farther through his hair, trailing her fingers across his skull until she reached the base, where she knew the pain sometimes centred for him. She pressed her fingers down lightly before sliding her hand back to his hairline and repeating the action.

"Mac." She heard him groan. "Kenz..."

The second nickname was what did it. It'd been so long since... Her heart thudded and for a second Mac just wanted to wrap her arms around him and promise to take care of him. Then she'd feed him painkillers and make sure he ate and... She shifted slightly closer. "Am I hurting you?" she whispered. "Do you want me to stop?"

Will almost laughed at the question. Hurting him? Her clever little fingers had always been able to find the tension and... _ "God no."_

Mac's next inhale was just a little too loud in the quiet room. She slid her other hand through his hair, pressing slightly along the base of his hair line.

Will clenched his hands on the arms of his desk chair and worked very hard at keeping his breathing even. It frightened him how much he wanted to touch her now. How suddenly the urge had presented itself. Not in a creepy way, not to take advantage, just in a... He wanted to run his fingers along her hip bone, or maybe rest his hands on her waist. Yes. That was it. Hold her near him while she ran her fingers through his hair. Maybe slide his own hands up her back in time with her fingers. Up and down. Up and down. Back and forth. Tracing little circles, or... or...

Will had the strangest urge to lean forward even more and bury his head against her chest.

He didn't do any of that. Just sat there, wishing she'd move closer. He'd missed her touch.

He'd missed...

Like he said, sometimes a headache could be lonely.

xxx

"So you miss the physical aspect of your relationship with Mackenzie?" Habib asked.

"What?" Will sputtered. "I mean, _that's_ what you get out of that story."

Habib stared at the man sitting across from him, wondering how on earth Will could possibly be surprised by that conclusion. "One of the things," he said eventually.

Will obviously had other things in mind. "My point was that she sat there, in my goddamn office for a couple of hours, all told, and it was nice. My point was that last week I told her that I liked having her around, as a friend, and so she spent a couple hours in my office this week. Like she knew I wanted her there."

"You did want her there," Habib couldn't resist pointing out.

"_I know that!"_

"It didn't seem like she was there that long when you told the story," Habib added, intrigued by the admission. He wondered if Will was entirely aware of exactly what he'd admitted.

Will shrugged. "Well, a lot of the time was her sitting quietly, doesn't really need to be told. Plus, she came back with tea."

"And then what happened?" Habib asked.

"She scolded me for not getting up putting more cold water on the cloth, told me we were close enough to show time to take more painkillers, and handed me some sort of herbal mint tea," Will explained. "Or maybe it was green. I don't know."

Habib nodded. As he'd expected, Mac had taken care of her cranky anchor. "Did she stay in your office?"

"For a little while," Will admitted. "To drink her coffee. It was a pretty uneventful day so why not?"

"Sure," Habib agreed easily.

"Then she had to go to the control room before the show started," Will explained. "And I had to get changed."

"Right."

His psychiatrist's repeated agreement was starting to sound too easy to Will, almost, almost sarcastic... "It wasn't..."

But Habib was in no mood to listen to Will tell him that Mackenzie sitting with him wasn't a big thing, so he interrupted. "Did you ever tell Mackenzie that sometimes you felt lonely when you get a headache? Before she came back to New York I mean."

Will froze. Had he told her that? "I don't remember."

Habib shrugged. He rather suspected that the answer was yes. Although the woman sounded like she could be awfully perceptive sometimes, so maybe not. "I guess it's possible that she just guessed."

Will froze. "You think that..."

"You don't?" Habib countered quickly.

Will glanced away and didn't answer the question.

Habib returned to an earlier topic of conversation. "So, you miss your physical relationship with Mackenzie."

Will glared at him. "We're back to this are we?"

"Yes."

Will's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because it's a valid question," Habib assured him. It spoke volumes about what Will actually wanted, versus what he was willing to admit he wanted from his EP. "And the faster you answer it, the faster we can move on."

"I miss a lot of things about my relationship with Mackenzie," Will hedged.

"Like having another person around when you're not feeling well, or having another person who you can just sit quietly with for a few hours comfortably, without feeling like you have to talk." Habib suggested.

Will sighed. He guessed it was his therapy after all. May as well god damn admit the truth. "Yeah."

"Plus, you miss touching her," Habib added cheerfully.

Will growled.

Habib resisted the urge to laugh. "Not in a bad way. But you do. You've been doing it more lately. Based on what you've been telling me at least. I don't know if you've noticed."

Will _had_ noticed. Of course he'd noticed. It was _Mackenzie. _He noticed a lot of things. "She's a pretty woman."

"I'm sure she is," Jack assured him.

That made Will chuckle. "I keep forgetting that you haven't actually met her."

"I know," Jack agreed. Sometimes he forgot that himself these days. "Although, to be honest, I think I caught her photo in a magazine at some point."

"Well, she's very attractive," Will said again.

"Sure."

That remark caused Will to glare at his psychiatrist again.

"Will, there was really no good way for me to answer that," Jack replied. There wasn't. If he'd sounded like though Mac was too attractive, Will might have gotten possessive, not attractive enough and Will got protective. It was a no-win situation. "Why would it matter if I'm attracted to Mackenzie anyway?"

Will considered that point. "It doesn't."

"It only matters if you are," Habib reminded him. "Attracted to Mackenzie, I mean."

"Well of course I am!" Will snapped. "I dated the woman, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," Habib confirmed gently.

"Yeah," Will muttered. "Yeah."

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you miss touching Mackenzie?" Jack repeated.

"Yeah," Will murmured.

"Okay," Jack replied, wondering how to formulate his next question. He knew he needed to be careful here.

But Will beat him to it. "She _did_ know," he admitted.

"What?" Jack asked.

"Mac," Will clarified, as if Jack might have gotten confused and thought they were talking about another woman. "She knew that I had a headache and that I... I might have wanted some company."

"You're sure?" Habib double-checked.

"She knew," Will replied. Mac had definitely known. She'd also stood for a good five minutes, running her fingers through his hair in silence before she'd even left his office to get their drinks. And before she did go, she'd tilted his head up to press a feather-light kiss against his forehead before slipping out of his arms, and his office.

He'd forgotten what it was like when she used to touch him.

He'd forgotten how affectionate Mac could be, when... with people she was close to.

Or at least, he'd tried to forget.

"She definitely knew," Will murmured, remembering a conversation later that evening.

xxx

"What was the extra five minutes for?" Will asked Sloan as she sat down next to him mid-broadcast.

"What?" Sloan asked, confused.

"The extra five minutes you wanted," Will clarified. "What was it for?"

"I didn't want an extra five minutes," Sloan replied slowly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Will opened his mouth, shut it again and started shuffling his papers, "Never mind." He suddenly had a pretty good idea what was going on here. He glanced up at the camera. "I guess you think you're subtle."

"Obviously I am if you didn't catch on," Mac murmured into his ear.

"Yeah, well, try not to yell in my ear tonight, would you?" he asked. "My headache's finally feeling better."

"You had a headache?" Sloan asked beside him. He ignored her.

Mac smirked. "Try not to screw up so I have to yell in your ear Billy, and I'll see what I can do."

"You do that," Will told her.

"Although, as it happens," Mac continued blithely. "I'm in a relatively good mood, because I just got rid of a pain of my own."

Will was about to ask her what pain before he realized the answer probably didn't bode well for him. "Oh, do your job."

"Right back at ya Billy," Mac replied. "Thirty seconds."

"Thirty seconds," he repeated to a confused looking Sloan.

Then he glanced at the monitor and smiled slightly.

Mac smiled back, even though he couldn't see her. "Let's do this, Billy."

xxx

"She just came in and sat with me..." Will murmured. "For hours."

"Because you were having a bad day," Habib told him. "She was offering her support."

"Yeah," Will agreed.

"And you're not sure how you feel about that?" Jack guessed.

"No, it's not..." Will tried to explain. "I mean, I liked having her there. It's just, she hasn't done anything so, well, obvious, I guess. Not since... Not in a while." And there was more to it than he'd admitted. After the show, before Will knew what was happening, Mac had bundled him into a cab and climbed in after him, all the while lecturing him about how he needed to take better care of himself. He'd put up some kind of token resistance (he was sure he had), but the evening had ended with the two of them curled up on opposite ends of his couch eating Mac's cheese and mushroom omelettes while she explained that he needed to eat because hunger wouldn't help his headache.

He hadn't bothered to tell her that his headache was pretty much gone thanks to that last round of painkillers.

After all, she was doing a nice thing for him.

And when she'd gotten up to leave not long afterwards (so he could try and get a good night's sleep), Will had the craziest urge to ask her to stay.

Just for a little bit longer.

Instead of what he did do, which was kiss her on the cheek and walk her to the door.

Still, he definitely knew that he liked having Mackenzie around.

"I thought this is what you wanted?" Jack reminded Will, bringing him back to the present.. "To get closer to Mackenzie."

Will glared at him. "I wanted to _see_ if I could get closer to Mackenzie without fucking it up."

"By getting closer to Mackenzie," Jack pointed out.

"It was all so simple before!" Will snapped. "It was simple. I was lonely, and then I... wasn't."

Jack wasn't entirely sure which 'before' Will was talking about. There were a few options. "Not lonely is good," he murmured supportively.

"Yeah, but for how long?" Will demanded. "I mean, I know she said she's staying in New York. She said that, and I believe her. But if we fuck things up again..."

"Fuck them up how?" Habib asked.

"Does it matter? Any number of ways!" Will replied. "Pretty sure there are an infinite number of ways to fuck something up. One of us gets fired, we get in a stupid argument that tears the show apart, our shit gets in the way. I don't know. I haven't thought about the specifics!"

No, Jack thought. Will had just focused on the shadowy fear. The potential disaster. It'd been broken once, so it could be again.

"Will," Jack said gently. "I can't force you to work on your relationship with Mackenzie. And I can't force you to take the risk and try again. Whatever you decide to do, what you have been doing, it's your choice. It's your life. I can only try and help you sort things out."

"I'm the only one who can forgive her," Will sighed. He wanted to. Jesus, he wanted to. When she was curled up on his couch, and things were so goddamn simple. But things between them weren't really that simple. Not at all.

"It was so straightforward before," Will admitted. "When she first came back, I mean. She cheated on me, broke my heart and left, or I sent her away. I was the wronged party. I... I had _the moral high ground!_"

"That's true," Jack agreed.

"It _is_ true!" Will insisted.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, leaning forward. "But the thing is Will, true or not, when it comes right down to it, you can either have the moral high ground, or you can have Mackenzie."

Will stared at his psychiatrist. "_Fuck_," he said eventually.

"Yeah," Habib nodded.

But Will just continued to stare. "No, seriously..."

"I know," Jack assured him.

Will hesitated. "I... I like having her around," he said. "I'm just, I'm trying to figure out if... My head, it's still a goddamn mess."

"Have you told Mackenzie that?" Jack asked him.

"Told her what?" Will demanded. "That my brain's a minefield right? Pretty sure she'd just agree with me and move on."

Jack was pretty sure she wouldn't, but he decided to let it slide. "No, I mean have you told Mackenzie that you're trying to sort out your relationship, maybe work towards something better?"

"No, I haven't told her that!" Will replied. He didn't feel like having that conversation. Mac would just get all hopeful, and then if it didn't happen, if it didn't work... Besides, how do you open that little chat?

Yes, thought Habib, rolling his eyes. Because heaven forefend that the woman Will had been desperately trying to sort out his feelings for since Christmas (if not longer) have even the slightest idea of what was going on in his head. It was absolutely horrible that she have any idea what was going on in his head. Any idea at all. Never mind that actually talking to Mackenzie had helped clear up any number of things only the week before! "And I can assume that you're probably not going to?"

"I'm still trying to figure stuff out," Will explained, defending his decision. "I don't want to drag her into the confusion."

But she was already smack dab in the middle of the confusion, Jack thought but didn't say. "You're going to have to make up your mind eventually," he cautioned. And the way things were going, Jack suspected eventually was going to have to come sooner rather than later. "Even if it doesn't have to be today."

Will sighed. "I know." He did know. It was just, the risks... Seriously, if they fucked it up again...

"Okay," Jack agreed. "And Will? When you're thinking about this, and we both know you're going to, think about this. Mackenzie might cause you the odd headache from time to time, but it also sounds like she's prepared to stand by you and help make them go away."

Will just shut his eyes and dropped his head back against the chair.

Jack didn't mind. He hadn't really been expecting an answer.

xxx

TBC


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: So, this one's a bit shorter, because I thought it was pretty well contained as is, and also because if not, it wouldn't go up for a while, and when it did, it would be insanely long. Even for me. So here it is, enjoy. I'm a fan of this one.

Chapter 11

xxx

At their next therapy session, Habib decided to be proactive. Just confront things head on instead of waiting for Will to broach the topic. It was always the same topic these days anyway, so why not.

Instead of dissuading him, Will's appearance of quiet frustration when he walked in the office only encouraged Jack in his plan. The anchor looked like he just needed a poke. Although, for civility's sake, he did exchange greetings and wait for the anchor to at least sit down before jumping in. "So, how are things going with Mackenzie?"

Jack's simple question resulted in something of a miniature explosion from the man sitting opposite him.

"Mackenzie!" Will growled. "Why is that all anyone ever wants to talk about? Things are going _just fine._ Everything's under control. Or it would be, if everyone would just leave me _alone_. Has no one heard about taking their time, or moving a little slowly in this day and age. But no! We've become a culture all about instantaneous gratification. Nothing is worth waiting for. Everything has to be now now now! Let me tell you something..."

Jack knew he had to act fast if he didn't want to listen to a ten minute (minimum) rant on the decline of American culture in the technology age. "What happened?" he asked softly.

The question pulled Will up short. "What?'

"I asked you a simple question, and you nearly bit my head off," Habib explained. "What happened? Did something happen with Mackenzie?"

"No," Will replied honestly.

Habib leaned forward. If something hadn't happened with Mackenzie then... "Is that a problem?"

"No," Will said quickly. He sighed. "Yes. Maybe."

Jack smiled softly. He'd expected some of Will's frustrations to come to a head at some point, but he had to admit, he'd expected it to take a little longer. "What happened Will?"

Will glanced away. "It's all Charlie's fault."

"Okay," Habib agreed easily. That actually made more sense, a third party giving him a push. After all, Will resisted change more stubbornly than most people Jack had worked with, and Mackenzie, as far as he could tell, was unlikely to push too hard unless she had some indication that she would get somewhere. And the woman was probably more than a little gun shy at this point. Jack wondered exactly what Charlie Skinner had done.

"He called me into his office on Monday morning," Will explained. "I foolishly thought it was going to be about work."

"I wasn't," Habib assumed.

"No," Will explained. It certainly hadn't been.

xxx

Charlie Skinner was going to do something that, despite appearances, he really didn't like doing all that much.

He was going to meddle in his employees' personal lives.

Sure, he'd played the puppet master before, but he usually tried to keep it in the realm of the professional. It was part of his job as head of the news division to manage his staff, after all. When it came to the personal, things got a little dicier.

He talked to his staff about their personal lives casually of course; he took an interest. A polite interest usually, but an interest nonetheless. Except when it came to Will. Will was special. He'd known the man for years now. Will had potential. He was often blinded by his own fears, but it was there. Charlie just wanted to see the man use it.

He'd made a good start recently with the show, but he still had a ways to go.

Charlie had been waiting for Will to figure it out on his own (he knew the situation was delicate and painful for the news anchor), but enough was enough.

Will had been dancing around for way too long now. He'd had his chance to deal with things his way. Now it was time for a new approach. Because one of these days Mackenzie McHale was going to meet another man who wasn't an asshole, and Will would probably regret it for the rest of his life.

It wasn't what Charlie wanted for the anchor.

But that wasn't the only reason Charlie had decided a bit of a nudge was in order.

A few days earlier, Will had come into work with a killer headache. After ending up on the wrong end of the anchor's crankiness himself, Charlie had decided to just leave him well enough alone. It wasn't his job to play nursemaid, and Will could be a complete bastard when he was sick.

Still, Charlie wasn't completely heartless. Later in the day, he'd gone to make sure Will was okay only to find that it was already being taken care of. He'd found Mackenzie ensconced in the anchor's office, stretched out on his couch with a stack of files. The two of them didn't appear to be making conversation, but she was _there_, a silent comfort. Charlie had left without interrupting them, knowing immediately that he wasn't needed.

Even apart from that instance (and that alone had been telling), he'd been hearing rumours lately, rumours about the face of Atlantis Cable News and his executive producer. Rumours of meetings that ended in smiles and maybe even laughter, of coffee cups filled exactly right left on each other's desks, of private lunches, of sparring matches where both participants seemed to be having entirely too much fun to actually be angry at each other.

It made Charlie wonder what in the hell Will thought he was doing (and why the hell Mackenzie wasn't pushing him to do it faster).

So now he was going to meddle. Just a little. For everybody's sake (and sanity).

He looked up when he heard a knock on his door. "Come in," Charlie called.

"Hey Charlie," Will said as he walked into the office. "How's it going?"

"Can't complain," Charlie said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. "I'm healthy, well reasonably. My family's healthy. Ratings are holding, no complaints from the fourteenth floor."

"Good," Will replied. "You wanted to see me?"

"I did," Charlie agreed.

"About the show?" Will hoped, starting to get suspicious.

Charlie paused. "It certainly could affect the show..."

"Charlie..." Will warned, definitely suspicious now.

But Charlie held firm. "I want to talk to you about Mackenzie."

"What about Mackenzie?" Will asked, a hint of warning in his voice. Then an idea struck him. "Because her contract's up this year?"

Charlie waved a hand. "No, I assume that if need be you'll simply beg her to stay."

"Charlie..." Will sighed.

"Well, you would if you knew what's good for you," Charlie added.

"I don't have to beg," Will said in exasperation.

That got Charlie's attention and temporarily distracted him from his goal. "Oh, you've talked about this already, have you?"

"We have," Will admitted.

"But neither of you felt the need to mention anything to me?" Charlie asked, his eyes twinkling.

"We've got months until she goes into contract negotiations!" Will snapped. "And I guess we both just assumed you'd be okay with having Mac around for another three years."

Charlie leaned back in his chair, considering what he'd just heard. _Three years._ The two of them were making plans, permanent plans, to be together, at least professionally. What in the hell did they think they were doing? Pushing that particular piece of information to the back of his mind, Charlie turned his attention back to the man sitting opposite him. "Of course I'm okay with it! I guess I just assumed you'd be too stupid to realize what a good thing you had. I'm thrilled to discover that you're smarter than that."

"Charlie..." Will said wearily, suddenly certain he knew exactly where this conversation was going.

"So, it sounds like Mackenzie's going to be around for a little while," Charlie continued. "Provided the three of us manage not to get fired, of course."

"Of course," Will agreed.

"And it sounds like professionally the two of you are doing quite well," Charlie observed.

"We are," Will replied. "But we've been doing pretty well professionally for a while now, so why don't you just get to the real reason you called me in here."

Charlie watched the other man across from him for a moment before acknowledging the point. They both knew what the conversation was going to be about now. "What about personally?"

"What about personally, what?" Will asked.

"What about your personal relationship with Mackenzie?" Charlie pushed.

Will paused. He tried to avoid the question, even though he was pretty sure it was going to be futile. "We're friends. I'd like to think we're working on a friendship."

"Now who's dicking around?" Charlie asked.

Will's eyes turned hard. "Charlie..."

But Charlie was in no mood to deal with his crap. Not today. "Are you still in love with her?"

Will gripped the arms of the chair. "That's none of your business."

"I'll take that as a yes," Charlie said. He'd guessed as much. "And she's still in love with you?"

Will's glare turned murderous. _"How in the hell should I know?"_ he snapped. "You'd have to ask Mackenzie that."

The anchor's answer made Charlie pause. Because unlike Will's earlier evasions, that answer seemed genuine. Will was actually uncertain. And with that, Charlie softened, but only a little. "Maybe I will," he said quietly. Probably not. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, even if Will seemed to have turned into an unperceptive idiot.

"Great!" Will replied. "Then she can be the one who has to sit through this interrogation instead of me."

"I'm not done," Charlie said, when the anchor looked like he was about to get up.

"Of course you're not," Will muttered, standing up and wandering over to the window, wondering why he hadn't just stormed out of the office five minutes ago.

"You ever planning on doing anything about it?" Charlie asked, staying where he was, sitting behind his desk.

"It's not that easy!" Will snapped. What did Charlie think he'd been doing all this time? He had some nerve calling him in here and trying to play matchmaker. Old man had been happily married for decades. He had no idea what he was talking about. "I'm so sick of people trying to tell me how to fix this... Like it's not a big deal."

"I didn't say it was easy," Charlie pointed out. "But I don't think it's as hard as you're making it out to be either."

"How would you know?" Will growled.

"Well, I have been in a relationship before," Charlie pointed out. "And don't tell me that it's not the same. No two relationships are, but none of them are easy, no matter how they look."

To Charlie's surprise, Will collapsed back into the chair. "Look Charlie, it's not that I don't appreciate what you're..."

"No, you listen to me William McAvoy," Charlie replied. "I've been on this planet longer than you have, and I've seen my fair over the years, both good and bad. And I've seen you and Mackenzie. You two are good together. When you're together sometimes, the two of you, you just light up."

The pain Will felt in his chest was entirely expected. "Charlie..."

"I mean, it's more obvious with her than you..." Charlie admitted. Will was a curmudgeonly sort, played everything closer to the vest, harder to read. But Charlie had learned a little over the years. And when it came to Mackenzie, well, sometimes Will's feelings were written all over his face in spite of himself.

"Because she's _nuts_," Will muttered.

Charlie ignored the interjection. "But sometimes, when you're in a room together, it's like you can't take your eyes off of her."

"Because she's usually talking," Will muttered again.

Charlie resisted the urge to toss his paperweight at the man. "For all that you call her crazy, I sometimes think that it's when she's at her craziest that she gets you the most. Because it's also when she's at her closest to genius."

"Look you know I think she's brilliant," Will replied.

"She has vision," Charlie corrected gently. "For the world, for the show, maybe even for you."

Will stood up again, absolutely unable to sit still. He spun around, trying to gather his thoughts. "She couldn't be practical if the world was ending," he replied eventually.

Charlie shrugged. "That's why she needs you."

That caused Will to freeze in his almost frenetic pacing. "She doesn't... I mean..."

"You ground her," Charlie replied. "I've seen it a million times in the rundown meetings. She tries to pull us all up into the stars, and you pull back and make sure it's actually going to be possible."

Will paused. "I already said that we work well professionally. It's why I want her as my EP."

"You don't want her for any more than that?" Charlie asked slyly.

Will gritted his teeth. "Charlie..."

"She misses you Will," Charlie said softly. "You're always watching her, but sometimes I wonder if you're actually seeing anything."

Will resisted the urge to walk across the room and punch the other man, sitting there smugly behind his desk. What did Charlie know about Mackenzie or how she felt? What did he know about what Will was trying to do about it? What did Charlie know at all? Will already spent an hour a week in therapy, with his actual therapist. He didn't need this from his boss as well. So he reverted to sarcasm. "Oh yes, she's certainly been pining away."

"She needs you Will," Charlie said gently.

The idea both frightened and thrilled Will. Although he wasn't sure it was true. Charlie didn't know Mac like he did. The woman was tough, and stubborn and above all else, independent. "Mac doesn't need anybody."

Not to survive, no," Charlie admitted. "I'll give you that. The woman can live without you. But she needs you to create something better than that. And you sure as hell need her.

Will denied it reflexively. "I don't…"

Charlie raised an elegant eyebrow.

"I don't," he insisted. "I managed to get along just fine for _three years_ while..."

Now it was Charlie's turn to be sarcastic. "Yes, _that_ was quite a good show, wasn't it?"

"That's not fair," Will snapped.

But Charlie wasn't done. "You were really very engaged in it weren't you?"

Okay, fine. He'd gotten the point. Now he just wanted to leave. "Charlie..."

Charlie was determined to make sure Will got the message. "And when was the last time you thought you were doing a worthwhile show before she came back?"

Will started to answer, sure that he'd have a ready example to cite. Only to come up empty. He dropped back into the chair in a daze. "Fuck."

With that, Charlie was pretty sure he'd made his point, but he needed to be sure. "Besides, you were very happy over those three years as well, weren't you? You certainly haven't been looking noticeably happier lately either."

Well, of course he'd been happier lately, Will thought. He'd been trying to... Will dropped his head into his hands. "Fucking hell."

"About time you got your head out of your ass," Charlie observed cheerfully.

Will just glared. "I hate you."

"No you don't," Charlie replied, completely unconcerned. "You're not the only one who's affable my friend, even if I don't have the focus group data to prove it. You'll thank me later."

"Yeah, we'll see about that," Will muttered. "I'm assuming you didn't really have a reason to call me up here."

"Oh, I had a reason..." Charlie assured him.

Will ignored that. He stood up. "So I assume I can go now."

"Suit yourself," Charlie replied, grinning widely. It seemed his meddling had been even more successful than he'd hoped. Although, he suspected he couldn't take all the credit. Will had probably already been at least halfway there, and just hadn't put it all together yet.

"Fuck." Will muttered, before beginning to swear more loudly as he left the office. "_Fuck, fuck, fuck.._."

Only to meet a very surprised looking Mac on the other side of the door.

"You okay, Will?" she asked. She'd been about to knock, when he'd opened the door literally cursing.

"I'm fine," he assured her, none too thrilled about the distractions looking at her seemed to be creating, or the little voice in his head wondering what would happen if he just kissed her, right here in the hallway. Luckily a second voice reminded him that it would make Charlie way too smug, and make the old man think he knew something. "I'm fine," he said again instead.

"Yeah, you sound it," Mac said dryly, smirking up at him.

Will just stared at the little upwards turn of the corners of her mouth. How bad could Charlie's smugness be, really?

Mac softened when he didn't answer right away, realizing something might actually be wrong. "Hey, I was just…. Is there anything I can do?"

"No!" Will insisted far too loudly. "I just... I've got to go."

Mac watched him go, a little hurt (even though she told herself the rejection she was feeling was ridiculous). She was shocked when he turned back towards her at the end of the hallway. "Sorry. I really do have a... thing to get to. Thank you though."

"You're welcome," she called after him, deciding she couldn't possibly be expected to keep track of every crazy thing Will decided to do. As long as it didn't screw up their show. "Let me know if you need me," she added for good measure. Then she stepped into Charlie's office. "What was that about?"

"I decided it was time to give him a metaphorical whack upside the head about something," Charlie told her with a smile, as he stood up and walked towards her.

"He doesn't seem to be taking it well," Mac observed dryly, glancing back down the hallway.

"He will, eventually," Charlie assured her.

Mac's eyes narrowed, still watching the hallway Will had disappeared down. "Should I be worried?"

"Nope," Charlie replied.

His tone got Mac's attention. She turned to face her boss, nameless suspicions brewing. "Charlie..."

"Don't worry about it, Mackenzie," he said, patting her on the arm.

Mac decided she probably didn't want to know. "You needed to see me?"

"I did?" Charlie asked feigning confusion.

"You left me a message to drop by your office around this time," Mac reminded him.

He had done that. Back when he'd figured that he might need to go at this particular problem from both directions. After the meeting he'd just had with Will though, Charlie wondered if perhaps that might be a bit overkill. He could always revisit things with Mackenzie later, if necessary. Anyway, he'd also figured that being confronted with Mac might shake a few screws loose in Will's head (which it certainly had). So bringing her up here had been well worth it, even if it was no longer necessary. To allay her suspicions, Charlie fell back on charm. "You know my dear, I can't remember why I called you in here. I'm sorry. Must be my age catching up to me."

Mackenzie smiled. "Nonsense, you're younger than all of us at heart. You'll outlive us all."

"Oh, I hope not," Charlie said. "I'm sorry to bother you."

"It's no problem," Mackenzie assured him. "If you remember what you wanted to speak to me about, just give me a call, maybe leave a more detailed message."

"You got it," Charlie promised her, watching as she left. After his meeting with Will, he was fairly certain a meeting with Mac wouldn't be necessary.

Still, another little push couldn't hurt. Just a small one. "Hey!" he called after her.

She spun back to face him.

"Keep an eye on our boy, would you?" Charlie asked. "He looked a little shaken. Might need someone to look after him a little tonight."

Mac smiled. "I'm on it."

"I'll bet you are," Charlie murmured.

xxx

"And then what happened?" Habib asked when Will trailed off in his story.

"I went to grab an early lunch," Will admitted. "I needed to get out of there for a while. I knew Mackenzie would be waiting for me as soon as I got back, which she _was_, wanting to make sure I was okay."

"You don't want her to be concerned about you?" Jack asked, somewhat facetiously.

"No!" Will glared, not appreciating the question. "Of course I want her to be concerned about me. _Of course_ I want..."

"You want what, Will?" Habib pressed.

Will ignored the question for the time being. "She did drop by my office when I got back," he murmured. "With her clipboard because she was on her way to talk to Sampat about a story, her head half in the show. But she still stopped by to check in."

"She cares about you," Habib reminded him, deciding to just let Will steer the conversation. "Of course she did. That's what friends do."

"Yeah," Will agreed. Actually, she hadn't just checked in on him. There'd been a little more to it than that. Mac had been persistent in her concern. She'd just known something was wrong. Or she's seen through his evasions. Or maybe, just maybe, he'd wanted her, just her, just for a minute. So after assuring her (for the tenth time) that he was fine, he'd asked her not to read too much into something, to just take it for what it was, because he really was _fine_, but he just... Well, there was one thing she could do.

Mac had agreed immediately of course, without even asking what he had in mind. And then, he'd stood up and wrapped his arms around her. He'd just wanted to hold her. Just for a minute. After a few seconds he'd released her and told her he'd see her at the rundown meeting with a smile. Maybe it was because his smile actually felt genuine, but Mackenzie seemed to believe him. Either way, she'd left his office with nothing more than a note from Jim about the latest Congressional scandal.

Not that Will was going to tell Habib about it. That was a detail his psychiatrist didn't need to dissect. It was his and Mac's alone.

Instead, Will steered the conversation back to Charlie and his meddling, and the real problem. "I just... it was so much easier when it was just the two of us, just us, just me and Mac, spending a bit of time together."

"But now that someone's called you on it," Habib surmised.

"I just didn't want it to get complicated yet," Will admitted.

"It was always complicated," Jack pointed out.

"Yeah," Will agreed. "But I just wanted a little bit longer to..."

"How much longer?" Jack interrupted.

Will paused. "I don't know."

"I think that may have been Charlie's point," Habib replied.

"Yeah," Will sighed. "Interfering old man."

"He had good intentions," Jack pointed out. "And based on your reaction, I have to say it probably wasn't the worst thing in the world."

"Yeah, it's always great to have it shoved down your throat that you were essentially miserable for three years," Will snapped. "Miserable and pandering to the lowest common denominator."

But Jack was well used to Will's moods by now. "Will..."

"_What?"_

Jack just shrugged. "I always thought you knew you were pandering."

As intended, that made Will smile. "Yeah."

"Okay."

"Charlie was only the start though," Will admitted.

That got Jack's attention. He'd been wondering how to circle around to what Will was feeling as a result of the conversation. He hadn't expected a second act. "How so?"

Will paused. "Well, after my little chat with Charlie, I... well, I guess you could say I paid a bit more attention to Mackenzie."

That would take some doing, Habib thought but didn't say. "In what way?"

Will shrugged. "I watched her I guess. Trying to see if she was... I don't know, happy."

Trying to see if maybe she was in love with him as Charlie had suggested, if Habib had to guess. Because Will certainly couldn't just ask the woman that. Far better to surreptitiously watch her for what had probably been days. "And was she?"

"I don't know," Will admitted. "I think she was sometimes. We went out to dinner one night, and she seemed fine. Pretty much normal. And in the newsroom she was her usual energetic self. But I got used to watching her eyes, checking in."

"And?" Habib prompted when Will trailed off.

"And then, a few days later, I saw something," Will admitted. "Something different."

Habib rose his eyebrows. Will honestly wasn't about to tell him that he'd concluded Mackenzie was in love with him from her eyes, was he? "What changed?"

To his surprise, Will almost smiled. "Well, first we had a visitor in the newsroom..."

Xxx

TBC

A/N: I know it's a bit cliffhangery, but it was either this or the chapter is insanely long and goes up in a week. I thought this was better.


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: Apparently, I am being speedy again with the writing. Hope you guys like the continuation. And thanks to everyone who reviewed. It's appreciated.

Chapter 12

xxx

_Previously on the Newsroom..._

_"And then, a few days later, I saw something," Will admitted. "Something different."_

_Habib rose his eyebrows. Will honestly wasn't about to tell him that he'd concluded Mackenzie was in love with him from her eyes, was he? "What changed?"_

_To his surprise, Will almost smiled. "Well, first we had a visitor in the newsroom..."_

xxx

For the first time all session, Habib got the distinct impression that Will was enjoying himself a little. "A stranger?" he asked sceptically.

"Yup."

Habib resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Was he wearing a fedora and a black cape?"

"Of course not," Will replied. "_She_ was wearing a grey suit."

Habib leaned back. Well this was interesting. "I assume she, whoever _she_ is, she was visiting for professional reasons."

"Of course," Will replied. "Why else would she have been there? Foreign espionage? I think you've read too many mystery novels, Doc."

Habib ignored that. "So?" he prompted after a moment.

Will shrugged. "So, Monica Kerr is a new executive producer at ACN's Chicago office. She's going to be running their local news broadcast, and she was in town for a couple of days last week. Meetings with corporate, that sort of thing. Plus, while she was in New York she wanted to see Newsnight, observe how it's run. I guess the goal is to align the style of the local broadcast to it as much as possible, since viewers tend to like continuity."

"Sure," Habib replied.

"The details don't really matter," Will admitted. "The point is, the woman was in our newsroom for a day."

"Did she cause problems?" Habib asked.

Will shook his head slowly. "No, not exactly. She was professional but friendly, really knew her stuff, stayed out of everybody's way when they needed to work…"

"But?" Habib prompted.

"But, well, Mac didn't exactly take it altogether well," Will explained.

Habib frowned. "Mackenzie felt threatened?" he guessed.

Will sighed. "Not professionally."

xxx

Charlie made the necessary introductions. He called Will and Mac to his office and introduced them to Monica Kerr, the newest executive producer of the Chicago local news. The woman was middle-aged, about average height and build with pin-straight long brown hair. She was also smiling in an friendly (and attractive) kind of way.

"It's lovely to meet you," Mackenzie told her, holding out her hand. "You used to be in California?"

Their visitor looked surprised by the observation. "I did, yes."

Mac nodded and explained. "I know one of the AP's in that office."

Monica laughed softly. "Oh right, of course, Mark. I think he mentioned you crossed paths."

"Producing broadcast news is a small world," Mac replied.

"So it's almost a shock that we haven't met," Will said holding out a hand of his own. "Will McAvoy."

Monica's smile got a little bit larger. "Of course. I recognize you from the billboards."

"But not the broadcast?" Will asked.

"That too," Monica admitted.

"All right," Mackenzie said, getting right down to business. "Charlie mentioned you were here to observe the newsroom, so why don't we take you down there now so you can start meeting some people. Unless there's anything else?" she asked, glancing at her boss.

"No," Charlie replied. "I'm happy to leave Ms. Kerr in your more than capable hands."

"Sounds great," Monica agreed. "I'm anxious to jump right in. The whole point of my being here is to observe after all."

"Then let's get started," Mackenzie said, ushering the other woman out of Charlie's office.

Will hung back as they made their way down to the newsroom, perfectly happy to let Mackenzie take the lead. He interrupted the two woman's conversation about the show when he felt it necessary, but would have been happy to let Mac contribute the lion's share of the conversation. However, it became clear that Ms. Kerr was definitely interested in getting _both_ of their opinions.

"The two of you obviously get along quite well," Monica observed after a few questions about the more technical aspects of the show. "But every so often there must be disagreements."

"Oh, there are," Will assured her.

"What do you do when that happens?" Monica asked. "You must have a system."

"Sure. Rock, paper, scissors," Will replied dryly.

Monica laughed (Mac rolled her eyes). "That's funny."

"Depends what the disagreement is," Will admitted more seriously. He gestured to Mac with his shoulder. "Sometimes she just overrides me and does what she wants; sometimes I do the same, other times we compromise. It really depends who's right."

"And how do you know who's right?" Monica pressed.

Will glanced at Mac before shrugging. "Usually we just do."

"Or sometimes Charlie tells us," Mackenzie added.

"If it has something to do with the ratings, I'm right," Will said slyly.

"Well, excuse me for wanting to focus more on content," Mac replied, but without any real rancour.

"So would you say you have fundamentally different perspectives on the news then?" Monica asked.

Will glanced briefly at Mac again, before turning back towards the newcomer. "Of course not," he said. "If we did, we wouldn't be able to do this show."

"But it's like you said," Mackenzie added as she stepped into the newsroom. "Sometimes there are disagreements. We can talk more about it later. For now, let's introduce you to some people."

The next few hours passed relatively smoothly. Ms. Kerr spent a few minutes with all of the major players involved in producing Newsnight. She sat in on a rundown meeting, occasionally asking questions, but mostly just taking notes. Will almost forgot she was there, if he was honest. Afterwards, she started to make herself more noticeable, bantering with the employees and trying to draw them out. Will noticed she seemed to be paying particular attention to him and Mackenzie, for obvious reasons. He didn't think anything of it. The woman wasn't a bother. All things considered, she seemed to be perfectly nice, and a damn good producer.

He suspected she was just friendly, so he accepted her frequent ducking into his office with her questions, and made sure to be as pleasant as possible. After all, the last thing they needed was to somehow get corporate's attention by not playing nice with the affiliates.

And then, sometime mid-afternoon, the trouble started.

Monica, as she'd asked Will to call her, had ducked into his office to inquire about their coverage of the last election, and how the various segments had been conceived. Will was particularly proud of that broadcast, so he may have been a little more eloquent than usual.

Not that his audience minded.

"I really appreciate you taking the time to show me around, McAvoy" Monica said playfully.

"Oh, it's no problem," Will replied. "Happy to help."

"I know you're busy," she said, leaning forward slightly on her chair.

Will shrugged. "Busy enough, but you caught us on a good day."

Monica bit her lip. "Still, I almost feel bad about asking you this, but…"

"But?" Will prompted.

"I was wondering if I could impose a little further?" she suggested with a smile. "Say Saturday? I'm only in town a couple more days and I bet you could show me a thing or two outside of the newsroom as well. I'd love to see the city."

Will froze. Well hell. How had he not seen this coming? Sure, Monica was attractive, but... Damn. And how to let her down gently without sounding like a complete ass? He stood up from behind his desk. "Well…"

"I haven't been to New York in years," Monica added, standing up as well and taking a step closer.

That was when Mac walked in his office and saw the two of them standing slightly too close. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said in a whoosh.

"No," Monica replied, taking a step back (to Will's relief). "It's fine. We're just finishing up. Actually, I wanted to talk to that senior producer of yours."

"Jim?" Mac asked far too brightly, causing Will to glance over at her. She swallowed. "I think he's in the edit bay."

"Then I'll go and look for him there," Monica replied. She turned back to Will. "Let me know about Saturday," she said with a smile Will realized was flirtatious. With that she breezed out of the office.

Mac took a deep breath and tried to ignore her pounding heart. "I'm so sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean to… What's on Sat…" she started to ask before waving her hands in the air and trying to control her facial expression which had shifted to a kind of blind desperation. "No, you know what? Never mind. It's none of my business."

_But it is your business!_ Will's brain screamed at her as he tried not to panic. Somehow he couldn't seem to make the words come out. He needed to though, because the expression on her face was painful. He took a step towards her and forced some sound to come out. "Mac, I think…"

"Anyway," Mac replied, taking a step backwards and babbling so quickly, Will couldn't get a word in edgewise. "I just wanted to give you the latest rundown of tonight's show before the meeting later. But I should get back to… Yeah. I need to go back to work." With that she spun out of his office and was gone.

Will watched her go, still standing stupidly by his desk. He saw her pause a few feet from the door and duck her head briefly, obviously composing herself, before straightening her shoulders and positively marching back to her office.

xxx

"It was awful," Will murmured.

"Because you got caught?" Habib asked.

Will's glare was more murderous than any Habib had ever seen. "No!" the anchor hissed.

Habib held his ground. "Then why?"

"Because I saw her face, okay?" Will tried to explain. "I saw her face and she looked like she'd been sucker-punched. And it just got worse and worse. The more she tried to hold it together, the worse it got. In the end she was practically smiling maniacally while still managing to look like someone had killed her puppy."

"And that upset you?" Habib asked neutrally.

Will's glare was back in full force. "No, I love it when Mac's in pain."

Habib ignored the sarcasm. "Why did it upset you?"

Will stared at his psychiatrist in disbelief over that particular question. "Because it _did._"

"Will…"

But Will was suddenly in no mood to listen to whatever patronizing thing the twelve-year old was going to say. He'd explain things to the child step by step, since that was what he apparently needed sometimes. "Because she looked like it was a foregone conclusion, and there wasn't at thing she could do about it. Like Monica asking me out on a Saturday night didn't affect her at all. Like she thought I was going to do... to do whatever I wanted without even giving her a second thought."

"And that upset you?" Habib repeated again, even more forcefully this time.

"Yes!" Will exploded in pure exasperation. "Of course it upset me! Who wouldn't be upset by that?"

Habib decided not to point out that two years ago, Will's behaviour towards her would have more than justified Mackenzie's reaction.

"She looked like she'd just given up," Will said quietly. And it hadn't been an expression he'd wanted to see from her. He needed her patience... he needed her friendship... he needed her... He just needed.

Aha, Habib thought. There we go. "And that's what really upset you?"

Will sighed. "I guess. Yes."

"Why?" Habib pressed.

Will met his psychiatrist's eyes, a pained expression on his face. "Jack…"

"Why Will?" Jack asked gently.

Will gritted his teeth, and practically shot out of his chair, beginning to pace around the room. "Because I'm in love with her! Okay?" he blurted out. "I'm in love with her. Charlie was right. You're right. I love her, and Mackenzie, she… it's like she doesn't even…" Will took a deep breath. "I'm in love with her," he repeated softly. It'd always been true, but it was somehow a relief to say it out loud. Even if just to his psychiatrist.

Jack watched the other man carefully, trying to gauge his mental state. The admission had been a long time coming. "I know."

"Yeah, well, apparently she doesn't," Will muttered, dropping wearily back into his chair.

"Because you haven't told her," Jack pointed out.

Will tried to defend himself. "I tried once, but she didn't hear me."

"Try again," Jack suggested, well aware of what the anchor's response would be.

Will didn't disappoint. "I… it's not that simple."

"Will…"

"Look, Doc, I know you get frustrated because I'm one of the least communicative people on the planet," Will said.

Jack decided that might be a slight exaggeration. "I wouldn't say…"

Will continued on with his thought, ignoring him. "But this time, I think you'll actually be pleasantly surprised."

Habib nearly did a double-take. _"Really?"_

Suddenly Will smiled to himself. "This time I think I actually managed to not to completely screw everything up."

Jack leaned back in his chair, realizing the story wasn't quite done. "What did you do?"

Will smirked. "I went to find Mackenzie, and I talked to her."

xxx

Mackenzie McHale was a flurry of movement in her office. Files were being aggressively sorted into piles. Old documents were being tossed in the trash, and she was furiously writing down notes as they sprung into her head. Because she was totally fine. Tonight's show was going to be great. In fact, it was going to be better than great. It was going to be the best damn show in broadcast news. Let Monica write that down and take it back to Illinois.

Mac was not going to be distracted by... by _anything. _She was going to get it done. She was a professional. Even if other people were looking for more from the workplace (to her credit, the irony wasn't lost on Mackenzie, she just chose to ignore it).

God damn it. Why couldn't she have just walked into the room two minutes later? She could have been blissfully ignorant of Monica asking Will out on Saturday. Blissfully ignorant. Or better yet, two minutes earlier. Maybe then it wouldn't have happened at all.

And how could she have not noticed? How could she have been so blind? Sure, she'd seen that Monica was friendly, but she hadn't noticed it directed towards Will anymore than towards anyone else. Well, maybe a little more, but he _was_ the face of ACN, so that made sense. Still, how could she have been so stupid? Monica was an intelligent and attractive woman; Will was an intelligent and attractive man. It was perfectly natural they'd be drawn to each other.

Not that Mac had any right to be upset herself. She didn't. She and Will were just friends. Good friends, who spent a fair bit of time together, but friends nonetheless. She had no claim on him. He could date however many women he wanted. Of course, he hadn't turned up on page six lately, so she'd wondered if he'd been cutting back, or just gotten more discreet. Either way, she didn't have to think about it. It's not like she was seeing anyone. By her own choice, of course. After Wade, she'd kind of lost her stomach for the dating scene. And anyway, it seemed kind of pointless when there was really only one man she wanted...

Mac paused, and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, she hoped she wasn't getting a headache on top of everything else.

No. She wasn't. She was fine. She was _perfect._

Just, why did it have to be Saturday? Saturday of all days? Not that she'd had any firm plans for the day of course, but she'd just... she'd thought that maybe...

Mackenzie's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Can I come in?" Will asked. He was barely two minutes behind her. As soon as she'd practically flown out of his office, he'd realized he needed to talk to her, immediately. This needed to be fixed. _Now._ Things needed to be straightened out right away before a thing that had actually been _good_ somehow got all fucked up again.

And then maybe the expression he'd seen on her face would stop torturing him.

Mac whipped around to face him, and Will caught a glimpse of the hopeless expression on her face before she pasted a smile over top of it. "Of course!" she said with false brightness. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to you," Will told her, shutting the door behind him. "We need to talk."

"Of course," Mackenzie replied in the same horribly smiley tone.

Will took a step towards her and tried to get the words to come out in some sort of coherent order. "Before, when you walked into my office, I think that maybe..."

"It's none of my business!" Mackenzie said quickly, wondering what she'd ever done to deserve this. She didn't want to listen to this. Didn't want to hear him explain what was going on. She wasn't sure that she...

"Mac," Will practically pleaded.

But Mackenzie's mind was whirling, and she couldn't seem to slow it down. She couldn't... "So, Saturday, huh?" she said brightly. "Where are the two of you planning on going?" Oh god. Why had she said that? Why did she always do this? Why couldn't she have just left well enough alone, pretend she hadn't heard. It would have been easier on everyone. Particularly since Will didn't seem to be deliberately trying to hurt her anymore. He'd obviously come in to try and smooth things over and she'd gone and... "No!" she said, trying to fix it. "It's none of my business. I'm sure that whatever you do..."

But she didn't get any further because Will was marching across the room. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he ordered, gently reaching for her arm.

Mac froze.

Will took that as a hopeful sign. "Stop, Mackenzie," he pleaded, stroking the crook of her elbow with his thumb. He needed to fix this. Christ he needed to fix this. No, he _would_ fix this. Nothing else was acceptable right now. "Please just stop," he whispered, trying to catch her eyes.

Mac glanced down to where his fingers were wrapped around her elbow. "Stop what?" she asked softly.

Will let his fingers trail along her sleeve, up to her shoulder and then back down to her wrist, before moving back up to her elbow. "What you're doing," he replied quietly.

She glanced back up at him, and Will couldn't help noticing her eyes were half full of unshed tears. "I'm not…"

Will shook his head, before reaching up with his other hand to tuck a lock of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear, running his thumb along her cheek as he did so.

Mackenzie's breath caught.

Will smiled a little, as he watched her eyes widen. "Did you know this Saturday's the start of the Greek food show?"

Mac stared at him for a moment, not quite believing what she was hearing. Her eyes flicked down briefly at the hand that was still stroking her elbow. "Yes," she admitted helplessly.

Will's smile widened slightly. He'd been hoping that would be her answer. "I suppose you already have plans for the day?"

Mac bit her lip, but Will swore he could see a spark of hope kindling in her eyes. She shook her head. "No."

He'd really been hoping that was the case as well. It'd been one of their things, well at least it had been _before_. They'd always done it, every year, just the two of them. They'd head out in the morning, eat way too much food and drink far too much, but it was always worth it. Even if the next day was spent lying around trying to digest too many spanakopita. They hadn't gone since Mac had returned, for obvious reasons, but Will had thought maybe, this year… Except that like a fool, he'd put off asking her. Now he wasn't sure what he'd been waiting for. Still, stupid as he was, he'd kept the date free, and apparently so had she. And now with Monica's intrusion, well, ironically the woman had given him the necessary push. He slid the hand on her elbow back down Mac's arm and started toying with her fingers. "Huh. Me neither," he told her.

Mac blinked, her eyes following his hand. Will was, well, if it'd been anybody else, Mac would have said he was sending a very clear message. A message she was half afraid to believe. Particularly after... Although, he _had_ run after her, which he hadn't needed to do... She needed to be sure. "But isn't Saturday the day that M…"

Will shook his head again, inching closer to her. "I don't have any plans," he assured her a second time. He paused. "I don't suppose you'd like to go with me?"

For a moment the invitation just hung between them. Will half expected Mackenzie to try and point out (yet again) that there was a woman standing in the newsroom trying to arrange a date with him for that very day. Instead, she smiled. Really smiled. And it was her turn to shift slightly closer. "I suppose I could do that."

With that, the tension in Will's chest dissolved. His fingers brushed against her hipbone as he admitted, at least to himself, that he was going to have to stop touching her at some point. At some point, but not quite yet. Not for another minute or so. "Good."

Now it was Mac's turn to reach for him, to pick some bit of fluff off his shoulder, not quite trusting her luck to try any more. "You're not giving me a lot of advanced notice," she murmured. Not that she minded. She was too happy to mind anything right now. He wasn't going to be playing tour guide to a visiting producer on Saturday after all. He'd made that abundantly clear.

He wanted to spend the day with her instead. Mac bit her lip.

Will shrugged, too busy paying attention to the way her fingers were lingering against his arm to care much about her pretend accusation. "I live on the edge," he said after a moment. "Pick you up at 11? I'm sure we'll be able to find some lunch there."

"I'm sure we will," Mac agreed, well aware that she still had her fingers in his sweater.

Will nodded absently, content to stand in her personal space for a little while longer. After a moment he stepped back. "I should…"

"Yeah," Mac said quickly, stepping back in turn. "Me too. I need to…"

"My script's not quite done," Will pointed out.

"And I need to check in with graphics," Mac added, gesturing towards the control room.

"Okay then," Will replied.

"Yeah," Mac said again. She turned to go and do just that before spinning around in the doorway. "Hey Will?"

"Yeah?" he asked.

She stared at him for a moment, realizing that she had absolutely no idea how to put what she feeling into words.

He took a step back towards her. "Mac?"

She shook her head, smiling. "Nothing," she murmured, deciding it didn't need to be said. "Just, have a good show."

Will smiled back. "You too."

xxx

"Well, I guess that's one way of clearing things up," Habib murmured.

"Yup," Will agreed.

"Some things, at least," Habib added. It hadn't been a frank declaration of his feelings, but it had been something.

Will scowled. "Yeah, well, I didn't do it to meet with your approval." He'd done it for himself, and for Mackenzie.

Habib smirked, but acknowledged the point. "I know."

"And anyway, it was a bit of a strange week," Will added. Between Charlie and then Monica, and even Mac herself, it'd been an emotional roller coaster.

"It sounds it," Habib agreed.

"At least I got things straightened out with Mac," Will said. That was the main thing.

For now, Habib thought. After all, Will's solution, effective as it had been, was short term at best. But the psychiatrist decided not to mention that. He realized that what he'd first mistaken as frustration in the anchor was also a heavy dose of nerves and uncertainty. Will may have finally admitted to himself what he wanted, but he obviously still wasn't quite ready to go after it. And the combination was making him uneasy. So Habib decided to go with the flow for the time being. He knew it was an unstable equilibrium, but hopefully it would last for another week. "Mac was okay with things, then? Habib checked.

Will smiled. "Yeah." He remembered that day's broadcast well.

xxx

The rest of the evening had flown by in a bit of a blur. The hours before a show were always busy, but that day, they'd seemed to pass particularly quickly. In no time at all, Will found himself sitting behind the anchor desk. He straightened his notes, and glanced at the monitors, well aware of who was watching on the other side. He put his earpiece in his ear.

"All set?" he heard her voice ask almost immediately.

"Yep," he agreed.

"You sure?" she asked.

"I have done this before, Mackenzie," Will reminded her.

"No pressure from your audience?" she teased.

Will smirked. "There's always an audience."

"Well, you hope so at least," Mac retorted. "But I know Monica here is particularly excited to see what you've got so you'd better not choke, Billy."

"Your encouragement is invaluable," Will said. "Truth be told, I was getting nervous, but now that you've put my mind at ease..."

He heard her soft giggle in his ear. "Alright, you've made your point. Thirty seconds to air. Good show."

"Good show," he murmured.

It had been a good show. Every so often it was like the stars aligned and everything just worked. It wasn't quite perfect, but damn near. It had been one of those shows where he really, really loved his job. Reading the news to America while Mac prompted him in his ear. And he swore he heard her excitement down the earpiece. The woman had always been terrible at hiding her emotions, and today, Mackenzie McHale was just happy.

And Mac's happiness was infectious. Will was sure it contributed to the control room's near perfect timing.

Will had to admit, he may have been influenced by it as well (by it and his own relief).

More than once, when he heard her voice murmuring advice or direction in his ear, he'd almost smiled into the camera, knowing she was watching.

Yeah, it had been a good show.

And he wasn't the only one who thought so.

Will was gathering up his things to go meet some people at the bar when Monica strolled into his office. "You put on a good show, McAvoy," she said playfully.

He smiled. "Thanks. Hope we taught you a few things."

"Maybe a couple," she admitted. "Mackenzie's pretty much an unofficial gold standard."

"Yeah, she's something," Will agreed.

"You're not too bad yourself," Monica assured him.

"I hold the chair down," Will replied.

She leaned against his desk. "So about Saturday…"

Will sighed and cut her off, determined to be as nice about this as possible. After all, now he could legitimately claim that he had other plans. "Look, it's not that I'm not flattered. You're a lovely woman, but…"

Monica just waved a hand in his direction. "Don't worry about it, McAvoy. Let's just say that after spending a day in this place, it became pretty obvious that you've only got room for one EP in your life."

Will paused, not quite sure what to say to that.

Monica just smiled. Yeah, she'd figured as much. Watching the broadcast from the control room, listening to Mackenzie in his ear, she'd sworn there were times that Will was reading the news to _her_. The rest of the audience was incidental. Whatever was going on between the two of them, it wasn't something Monica was willing to toss herself in the middle of. Not even for a weekend. Instead she kept things friendly. "See you at the bar? I hear it's the place to be after the show."

Will smiled back, more than willing to take the out she was providing. "Sure, see you there."

She turned to leave before pausing in the doorway. "Hey Will?"

"Yeah?"

"The two of you really do put on one hell of a show," Monica told him.

Will nodded. "I guess we do."

Monica nodded and turned to leave again.

This time it was his turn to call after her. "Hey Kerr!"

She spun, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

He smirked. "You ever need any more advice, you know where to find us."

Monica chuckled. "Oh, go to hell."

xxx

"And that was it?" Habib asked, when Will trailed off.

"Pretty much," Will admitted. "After that everyone went to the bar, had a couple of drinks. We swapped stories with our visiting producer, then we went home."

"Okay," Habib agreed, deciding to let it go at that. "And how was Saturday."

Will turned to look out the window, getting lost in the memory. "Saturday was good," he said eventually. "Mac and I spent the day together, as we planned, like we used to. It was... good." It'd been more than good actually. He'd picked up a casual and smiling Mackenzie in the morning and they'd trailed through all the stalls the various vendors had set up for hours. Plus there'd been exhibits and performances. It'd been a good day. Mac had found his hand early on, and hadn't let go. Will figured it would make it harder for them to lose each other in the crowds that way. The food had been amazing, but the company had been better.

He remembered lazily strolling with Mackenzie, listening to her murmured observations. He'd forgotten how funny she could be, when she wanted to. It'd been a while since he'd let himself relax enough around her to laugh. And then, when it had gotten later, and the day outside started to hit her, she'd leaned against his shoulder sleepily. And he'd bundled her into a cab and gotten her safely home. It'd been a good day. He wanted more days like it. So obviously it was more important than ever that he figure his shit out.

He didn't want to share any of the details with Habib though. They were _his_. So he summarized. "Saturday was good. We ate, we drank, we walked around looking at stuff. We managed not to kill each other. Good food and good company, basically. What more do you need?"

Habib smirked. "Okay. I don't suppose you talked about your relationship?"

"No, we didn't talk about our relationship," Will replied. "We were too busy having a good time."

"So I take it you also didn't talk about your little misunderstanding," Habib surmised.

"We fixed that," Will reminded him.

"You did," Habib agreed. "But what happens the next time an attractive woman crosses your path?"

"I think I can manage not to go on a date with her as well," Will replied glibly.

"Is that what you want then?" Habib asked. "Exclusivity with a woman that you yourself insist you're not even dating?"

"I'm _not_ dating Mackenzie," Will insisted. "And anyway, I don't mind not seeing other women. It's not like I was doing an amazing job in that department before. Last time I tried dating, I got a bunch of drinks in the face and a bunch of stories in the tabloids. I'm okay with forgoing that for a while."

"And Mackenzie?" Habib asked.

"What about Mackenzie?" Will asked.

"Is she okay with forgoing that for a while?" the psychiatrist asked. "Do you know if she's dating?"

Will tensed. It'd crossed his mind more than once, but he tried not to think about it. "I don't think she is," he said, the idea like a knife in his gut. "Not that I know for sure. I mean, she hasn't said anything. Of course, I haven't asked her, and it's not like I track her every move."

"So she could technically be seeing someone," Habib prompted, knowing it was a bit cruel (and unlikely), but also necessary at this point.

"I guess," Will replied. He tried to focus on the fact that her reaction to his implied rejection of Monica's invitation to go out on a Saturday night made that possibility unlikely. Unlikely but not impossible.

"So are you planning on doing anything about it?" Habib asked.

"What can I do?" Will snapped. "It's not like I can ask her not to see other people while I try and figure out if I can or can't have a relationship with her."

"What would you call what you have now?" Habib asked innocently.

"You know what I mean!" Will growled.

Habib thought that Will was getting lost in semantics, but didn't say anything. The anchor needed to work this out on his own, he could only guide. "Okay, then why can't you ask her not to see other people, at least for a little while. Honestly, from what I'm hearing it doesn't exactly sound like she'd _mind_." That was probably an understatement actually, Habib thought.

Will shook his head. "Because it's not _fair._ If I'm not prepared to... to start something with her, then I can't sabotage... She told me she wanted a partner once, and she deserves one."

"So you're not going to even try to talk to Mackenzie about this?" Habib asked. "Not even to suggest even a temporary arrangement. If she decides she's sick of waiting for you to figure out what you want, you can call it off. If you're honest with her about what you want and what you're trying to do, I don't see why you can't ask her that.

"Why are you pushing this?" Will demanded.

"Because I want to make sure you know what you're doing," Habib replied. "And what's at stake."

"Why interfere with something that's working?" Will asked desperately.

"Is it working?" Habib asked.

"Yes!" Will insisted.

"And yet, when you walked in here, you didn't really look happy," Habib pointed out.

Will paused. "Didn't I?"

"No."

"Hmm," Will sighed. He supposed he hadn't been. It was frustrating, feeling so close to what you wanted, but at the same time feeling like something crucial was standing in your way.

"What is it Will?" Habib asked.

Will ran a hand over his face. He knew what they had wasn't a long term solution. He knew that. It was just, if he fucked it up... Still, Jack was right. He _really_ didn't want Mackenzie to even consider going to dinner with other men. He loved her. He wasn't sure exactly how he wanted to deal with that yet, but... "Friends isn't going to work, is it?"

"It might, for a while," Habib said gently.

Will nodded. A little while. Okay, so he probably had a few weeks at least to figure this out. Nothing had to be decided tonight. He was pretty sure he could wait a little longer. Not that he knew what Mackenzie was thinking... Oh crap. This was a mess. "But…"

"Is it really what you want?" Habib asked. "Friendship?"

Will glanced out the window. "No."

Habib nodded. "That's why it's probably not going to work."

Will sighed. "Yeah."

Deep down he'd already known that for a while. Just as deep down he'd always known what he wanted. Now he just had to figure out how to make it happen.

God help him if he couldn't.

xxx

TBC


	14. Chapter 13

A/N: And I continue to be ridiculously fast. Though I suspect the next chapter won't go up until next week now. What with the long weekend. Still, hope you enjoy this one.

Chapter 13

xxx

Will walked into Dr. Habib's office, the next week, a blank expression on his face and sat down without a word.

"Do I even need to say it?" Habib asked, not entirely surprised by this turn of events. He'd been expecting a few bumps and bruises after their last session.

Will shook his head. "This past week..." he sighed. "Well, Mac and I were having a few... issues."

Jack nodded. "What kind of issues?"

"Oh, all kinds," Will replied. "But basically?"

"Sure," Habib agreed, more than willing to cut to the chase.

"I kept feeling angry at her. Or actually snapping at her," Will admitted. It hadn't been his best week, but he swore he hadn't been able to help it. He'd known the way he was feeling wasn't her fault, that she didn't deserved it, and he'd promise himself he wouldn't take it out on her, but then, he'd see her and before he knew it he was being an ass. And then, because she wasn't completely spineless, Mac responded. And things eventually escalated until they were practically sniping across the newsroom, or even just in his office..

"Right," Habib said, waiting for Will to continue.

"It was like we were constantly at each other's throats," Will said softly. "All week."

"You were frustrated," Habib summarized. It was a typical response to acknowledging strong (and long-buried) feelings. And Will had been frustrated with the Mackenzie situation for quite some time.

Will sighed, and glanced downwards. "Pretty much."

"Because you realized you were in love with her?" Habib asked innocently.

Will looked up from his hands, unimpressed. "I imagine that was a definite contributor," he said dryly.

"Will..."

"Okay look," Will said quickly, cutting his psychiatrist off in his haste to defend himself. "I guess I... I didn't deal with it well. She was _right there_, but I didn't know what to do about it. I mean, there's still all this crap between us, but it's mixed up with the... love."

"I can see how that would be frustrating," Habib said sympathetically.

"Yep," Will agreed, starting to fidget slightly in his chair. "So for some reason, I thought I would use the, well anger, and take the opportunity to sort through some of the crap that happened five years ago."

"What?" Habib asked. Will had gone searching for a confrontation? Really? Jack had been expecting hiding out in his office, avoiding his EP (probably as part of some misguided attempt to stop causing her pain), not... this. He could only imagine how that _conversation_ had gone.

"Well, I guess I thought it might help sort out some of the crap," Will explained a bit self-consciously. "Things were a bit uncomfortable, so I figured, why not? Couldn't get any worse."

"Theoretically not a bad plan, I guess," Habib admitted. It wouldn't have been, if they'd been in rational frames of minds.

Will shrugged. "It's also possible that I just wanted to yell at her."

Jack winced. He'd suspected as much. "Jesus."

"Pretty much," Will admitted.

xxx

Will was not having a good week. Everything just felt slightly _off_, just, just not right. Nothing was working, nothing was comfortable. He felt twitchy and irritable and just impatient.

When he'd arrived at work after his last appointment with Habib he'd been a bit gruff, a bit quiet, just trying to keep it together. Then a smiling Mackenzie in a crimson blouse and a skirt that did interesting things to her legs had dropped by his office to check in, and he'd overcompensated. He'd been downright curt with her. She'd been downright confused, but in the end had just breezed out with a shrug.

But then Will's curtness slid into irritation which slid into sarcasm which slid into something close to anger. The two of them went from bickering in the newsroom to pointed jabs in the rundown meetings to full-out arguments in his office. As his mood had deteriorated, so had hers. Will knew he needed to get it together and fast, because there was only so long they could go on like this, and he was beginning to see the edges of hurt creep back into the corners of Mac's eyes. But he didn't know how to fix it. He needed to talk to her, but he had no idea what to say.

Of course, the decision wasn't entirely in his hands.

Things finally came to a head on Friday's show. Will had managed not to thank the audience for "washing" the show, but it had been a near miss. And he _had_ managed to mispronounce the names of no less than four different guests. Mac's voice got slightly more hysterical in his ear with each subsequent correction.

Needless to say, she hadn't been impressed with him afterwards (he wasn't the only one who'd been frustrated). She'd stormed into his office immediately following the broadcast, just spoiling for a fight.

And he'd been only too happy to oblige her.

The rest of the newsroom, obviously sensing what was coming, had exited en masse, rushing to the bar even more quickly than usual, anxious to be well out of the line of fire.

"Do you want to talk about where the fuck your head was tonight?" Mac demanded, stepping into the office and letting the door slam shut behind her. She knew it wasn't the most tactful way to start a meeting, but after almost a week of this crap, she was so far past tact it wasn't even funny. One day he was Will, her supportive, funny, slightly ornery Will, and the next he could barely stand to be in a room with her. If the plan was to give her a nervous breakdown by the end of the month, well, he was _right_ on schedule.

Her tone alone would have gotten Will's back up, even if he could have answered her question. But he couldn't. Because he knew _exactly _where his head was, and the tangles inside it were all _her _goddamn fault. So he crossed his arms, leaned back in his desk chair, and went on the offensive himself. "Oh, I don't know Mac, maybe it was trying to give the news in spite of a voice nagging in my ear."

"Trying to give you accurate information so you could actually greet the people you were supposed to be interviewing _correctly,"_ she snapped back, her tone just as scathing.

Will dropped his arms and clenched his hands into fists, because he knew she was right. Not that he was about to admit it. She was wrong about so many other things after all. "Look, you may think that a trained monkey with good diction could do my job..."

Mac glared at him, annoyed at him for even going there. They both knew he knew her better than that. "Oh, don't even got here. I'm not one of those high and mighty producers who think their job is the only tough one and you know it."

"Coulda fooled me," Will drawled.

Mac advanced on him slowly. "And that's another thing, you've been downright unpleasant this whole week, Billy."

"Don't call me that," Will said quickly. He couldn't deal with hearing that nickname in her voice right now, angry or not.

The order stopped Mac in her tracks. "What?"

"I asked you not to call me that." He really couldn't deal with that today.

Mackenzie actually looked really hurt for a second and that made him feel even worse.

Then she steeled herself, telling herself that she didn't care. He was obviously going through something that he refused to share. Well, he wasn't going to take it out on her any more, her or her newsroom. That was the material point. "_Fine!"_ she hissed. " You've been downright unpleasant all week, _Will._ Don't even try and deny it!" she said as he opened his mouth. "The way I see it, you've got two options. You can talk to me and we can sort this shit out, or you can go home and figure it out yourself over the weekend, but it's one or the other. Because I'm sick of you using the newsroom as your personal whipping boy!"

"Oh that's rich!" Will replied.

"What?" Mac demanded.

"You haven't exactly been Ms. Sunshine-and-light this week," he reminded her. It wasn't like he'd started _all_ of the arguments this past week.

"Maybe because I've had to deal with a cranky bastard of a news anchor and my patience is wearing thin," Mac defended.

Will raised his eyebrows. "Oh, so you're saying this is my fault?"

"I'm not the one who couldn't pronounce the oh so difficult last name of _Richardson_ earlier this evening," Mac reminded him.

Will shoved his desk chair backwards and jumped to his feet. "I speak for the better part of forty-five minutes, five nights a week. I think I'm allowed to get a little tongue-tied once every six months."

"This was four times today," Mackenzie practically taunted.

Will stared waving his arms around in frustration. "Well, someone call in the broadcast news police. Oh wait, that would probably just be _you._"

Mackenzie just stared at him, in pure frustration. "The _hell_, Will?"

The expression on her face reined him in, but just barely. And he reminded himself (for possibly the hundredth time in four days), that this wasn't really her fault, and it definitely wasn't fair. He sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just, there's stuff... I'm having a bad week. I'm trying to... there's stuff..." He shook his head. "I'll figure it out. Don't worry about it."

Mac let her anger deflate out of her. She took a tentative step towards him, reaching an arm out, and letting it fall against his desk when her nerve failed her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Will looked up, surprised by the offer, given the outcomes of all of their recent attempts at conversation. He made a face. "You sure you want to do that?"

"Yes," Mac assured him.

He stared at her helplessly. _"Why?"_

The question made Mackenzie irrationally angry again. "_God damn it, Will_. Because we're friends. Most of the time at least."

That hit a nerve. Will stepped out from behind his desk. "Do you honestly think we can ever really be _friends,_ Mackenzie? All the time? After all that's happened."

She took a step back like she'd been punched. "You don't want to be friends?" she asked, her voice quivering.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I do. I just think it's complicated."

Mackenzie dropped her head to her chest, deflating completely. "Because of what I did."

"Partly," Will whispered, looking at the woman across from him in something close to despair.

"Mostly," Mac corrected under her breath.

That sliced through him like a knife to the heart, mostly because it wasn't even true. "Mac..."

But she just shook her head, pushing a lock of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. "No, Will. Let's call a spade a spade. That's exactly what you think."

"You seem very certain that it is," Will said slowly. And the funny thing was, he wasn't. Not anymore.

She looked up at him, her eyes sad. "Why would I think any different?"

He paused, not sure what to say. He remembered that final fight well. Devastating was an understatement. "Did you ever think about staying in New York?

"What?" Mac asked, confused by the apparent change in subject.

"Before, after Brian," Will clarified. "Instead of running off to the Middle East..."

"You told me to get the fuck out of your life!" Mac reminded him, her voice breaking. It'd been the worst few weeks of her life. She'd destroyed everything and then needed to go away and try to put at least some of her pieces back together.

"Not exactly..." Will murmured. He didn't remember every saying _that_.

"_Almost_ exactly," Mac corrected. It'd been so close, the difference hadn't mattered.

Will swallowed. "I was slightly... nicer, wasn't I?"

"Not much," Mac admitted with a shrug, staring at the floor. "And anyway, when you were trying to be kind it only made me feel worse." It had been easier when he'd yelled. When he'd been defeated and hopeless, but gentle, that had been the worst. That was when she'd known it was really over.

"_Fuck,_ Mac," Will breathed.

Mac's head snapped up. "You brought it up!"

"Yeah," Will agreed, feeling the frustration build in him all over again. "And the way things are going, you may as well answer. _Did you ever think about staying?"_ He'd thought about that what if more than a few times over the years. What if she'd stayed? What if they'd confronted this thing between them, instead of just running as far apart as possible (Will knew he was as guilty of that as her, even if his running hadn't been geographical).

Had she thought about staying? Of course she had. But she hadn't seen the point. And it'd been so hard to see him and know that... "Would you have forgiven me, more quickly? Not that you've forgiven me now."

It killed him that he couldn't refute that statement (not quite). So he answered the first question. "I don't know."

Mac nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She tried to joke. "Well, at least I got one hell of an experience out of it."

And a knife wound in the stomach, Will thought but didn't say, glancing at the mark her blouse was hiding.

"Yes, I thought about it," Mac said so softly he almost didn't hear her.

He nodded, not sure what to do with that answer now that he had it. So he stuck with the one thing he _was_ sure of. "I'm glad you came back eventually, when you did."

"Better late than never?" Mac asked with an attempt at a smile.

"Something like that," Will murmured.

"But you still don't think we can ever be friends," Mac reminded him, trying to ignore her own cracking heart.

Friends? Will thought to himself. Probably not. Not the way he felt about her. But he didn't know how to explain that, didn't know how to...

Mac decided his pause was telling. That was it then. No more nights out at the theatre. No more friendly dinners. No more curling up on the corner of his couch when she was upset and didn't want to be alone. She tried to stifle a sob. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I can't even begin to tell you how..."

Will took a step towards her, frustrated with her for making that conclusion, and with himself for forcing it on her. "God damn it Mac!" he yelled. "I _know_ I have to try forgive you; I _am_ trying to forgive you, but you have to stop doing fucking penance!"

A pair of tears leaked out the corner of her eyes. "But I fucked it all up!" she burst out. "It was perfect..."

"It was never perfect!" Will interrupted forcefully.

That caught her attention. "What?"

"It couldn't have been!" Will growled. "If it had been, we wouldn't be here now!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Will felt his brain literally stall. He felt like he'd inadvertently hit on something terribly important, but with everything swirling around his brain, he couldn't put his finger on what exactly that was.

Mac didn't seem to have been similarly affected, or maybe she was too caught up in patterns of old arguments.

"Right, and we're here now because I cheated on you and fucked everything up!" Mac yelled, advancing on him. _She'd_ been willing to work on things, to try and move on. She'd thought he was too, but apparently not. Well, she wasn't taking all of the blame, not this time. "Because this is all on me, right? This is..."

But Will was getting sick of their patterns. Not when he finally felt like he'd figured out something fucking crucial. "Shut up," he said quietly but firmly as he strode to meet her.

Mac actually did stop, but only for a moment. "What?" she demanded furiously. "What did you say? Don't you _dare_ tell me to..."

And with that, something in Will's mind snapped. With a groan of frustration and one last giant step, he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her against him before slamming his lips against hers.

After half a second of pure shock, Mac was kissing him back just as ferociously, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other hand tangled so deep in his hair, it was the next best thing to pulling.

Will couldn't think. In fact, he deliberately didn't want to. Anger and frustration and desire were swirling through him, fighting for control. He was happy to give it to them. Wrapping his free hand around the base of her neck, he eagerly battled Mackenzie for control of the kiss, counting each of her little moans as a victory.

Then somehow, from somewhere buried deep inside his brain, a small voice of reason managed to make itself heard from among his raging emotions. And Will realized that he was kissing _Mackenzie_. He was _kissing her_, and she was kissing him _back_, and very determinedly too. It was the first time he'd kissed Mac in _five years_. And though Will had absolutely _no problem_ with the level of enthusiasm involved, the ferocity of it gave him pause. It was too close to anger. And he was so sick of everything between them being defined by anger lurking just below the surface.

So (and with more than a little regret), he tore his lips from hers, loosened his grip and pulled back, determined that she'd at least open her eyes and acknowledge him.

After a second, she did. Will ignored the flash of disappointment and confusion he saw plainly on her face, and ignored the loss he felt when she let her hands drop to her sides. Instead, he smiled at her before sliding his hand out of her hair to cup her cheek and lowering his head again. This time his kiss was gentler, sweeter, but no less intense (there was no way things between them could be anything but after all of this time).

He felt Mac gasp against his lips before softening against him. Will re-tightened his hold on her waist, holding her near. To his relief, he felt her arms tangle back around his shoulders, as she began to lazily explore his mouth with her own. And Will just let himself sink into her.

Mac felt like she was floating. She swore she'd literally gone weak in the knees the second his lips touched hers the second time. Her Will, her Billy. Thank god he had a grip around her waist, or she might have just slid to the ground. She'd wrapped her arms around him to hold herself up, hold herself close to him. She no longer had any confidence in her legs to do the job. Not that she cared. She stroked her hands along his shoulders, foolishly pleased that he was wearing a cashmere sweater, so soft, so warm against her skin.

She moaned her approval as she let her hands travel, and Will responded by lightly nipping his way along her bottom lip.

Then Mac didn't care about anything other than the fact that Will seemed to be intent on chasing the ability to think from her head. Smiling against his lips, she set about ensuring that she wasn't the only one having trouble remembering their own name.

Eventually, Will regretfully pulled back with some vague notion that maybe they should talk, drowning out Mac's disappointed sigh with one his own. Then he was confronted by her swollen lips and languorous eyes, and the sound of two people's too-loud breathing echoing between them. And he knew he'd never stood a chance. With a helpless half-smile, he leaned his forehead against hers, and slid his hand back into her hair. Forcing a moment's concentration, Will slid the elastic off from around her ponytail and tossed it absently in the corner of the room while Mac watched him incredulously. Then he buried his hands in the hair he'd just liberated, enjoying the feeling of its softness around his fingers, before kissing her again.

Mac almost laughed in delight. "Billy," she murmured.

Ironically, the sound of the nickname effectively drove all remaining thoughts of _talk_ from Will's brain. Instead he began placing hot open-mouthed kisses against her mouth, her cheek, along her chin, to just below her ear until she was gasping. He remembered all too well what she liked.

He wasn't the only one who remembered. Mac slid a hand down to the small of his back, and began tracing patterns there before trailing her lips along the edge of his ear and getting a little more _vocal_, murmuring his name over and over again. The nickname that she'd oh thank god ignored his request not to call him by.

Will groaned before crushing her to him, burying his face against her neck, breathing her in. "Kenzie, oh Kenzie."

And then her arms were tightening around him even more, as she buried her face against his shoulder, trying to control her sudden trembling. She settled for nuzzling into him.

"Don't go," he whispered in spite of himself, brushing his lips along her pulse.

She shook her head frantically. She wasn't going anywhere. Not this time. Not ever again. Not this show. And not if there was even a chance he might want her. "No," she whispered back. "Never."

She felt him smile suddenly. "I'm stuck with you?" he asked.

Mac exhaled in relief. "Yes."

Will tilted his head to find her lips again. And it was Mac's turn to smile suddenly.

He pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers. "Want to get dinner?" he murmured, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

Mac bit her lip and nodded. "I'll get my coat."

"Okay," he whispered.

He watched her slip out of his office, pleased when he saw her glance back at him with a self-conscious smile. Twice.

He almost laughed. Somehow his level of frustration was much, much lower than it'd been only an hour before.

xxx

"And then what happened?" Habib asked, still trying to catch up on recent events.

Will shrugged. "We went out to dinner," he said.

"And how was that?" Jack asked, noting the faraway look in the anchor's eyes.

"Quiet," Will murmured.

Jack frowned. "Quiet?"

"In a good way," Will was quick to explain. "I guess, after the week and all the... stuff, neither of us were really feeling up for a really heavy discussion. I certainly wasn't. I just wanted to sit with her and eat. We did talk a little, obviously, but it wasn't..." he trailed off. The conversation hadn't been heavy. Their dinner had been calm. For the first time all week, he'd been calm, with Mackenzie sitting across from him murmuring about how her vegetables were slightly over-cooked, her calf resting against his.

"You were sorting things out?" Jack suggested.

"I guess," Will agreed. "Anyway, I didn't really see her after that. Not over the weekend at least." He'd dropped her off at her apartment with one final kiss. He'd toyed with asking her to just come back to his place, and had seen that she'd very clearly been considering the same thing. But they'd parted by unspoken agreement. Both too afraid to push the limits of the new tentative peace for the moment, Will supposed.

Still, it hadn't been easy to drive away from her.

"What about Monday?" Habib was asking.

"Monday?" Will asked, shaking himself out of his memories. "Monday we did the show. Only this time without tearing out each other's throats. Monday was pretty normal." Okay, except for the part where he'd been walking down the hallway with Mackenzie and she'd suddenly shoved him into an unused editing bay and kissed him desperately. His back had hit the wall, her hands had been in his hair and her hips pressed against his. Will had dropped his hands to her waist and just succumbed, letting her hold him right where she wanted him. She was deceptively strong and fucking tactile and it was (and had always been) the sexiest combination he'd ever experienced.

And then, a few minutes later she was gone (like he'd been a fucking coffee break), ducking back out into the hallway while he was left in the edit bay wanting. Her sly smile across the table at the rundown meeting fifteen minutes later was a challenge he hadn't been able to resist. Will had never been more grateful for all the dark corners and cubby holes in a television studio. He'd found another one later in the evening to hide her in for a few minutes, and he hadn't let her out until she was sighing softly against him.

And he might have winked at her through the camera before the show started.

Will cleared his throat. "And then on Monday night, she and Sloan went out for drinks. I shudder to think what they were discussing."

Jack shrugged. "That's out of your control."

"Yeah."

"You really think that things are normal between you and Mackenzie?" Jack asked.

"Well, more normal than last week," Will replied.

"You really think that nothing has changed?" Jack pressed.

Will rolled his eyes. "Well of course something has changed!"

"And?"

"And I was thinking about this on the weekend," Will admitted.

Jack leaned back in his char. "Were you?"

"Yeah," Will replied.

"And what were your conclusions?" Jack asked curiously.

"Well, this forgiveness thing?" Will said.

"Yeah?"

"Complete crap," Will told his psychiatrist. "I mean, it's been years. Obviously forgiveness is important on some level, but you know what? I'm sick of it. I'm so god damn sick of being told that I need to forgive Mackenzie by people who don't know anything."

"You don't think you need to forgive Mackenzie?" Jack asked.

"I just need Mackenzie," Will snapped. "I want her. And you know what?"

"What?" Jack murmured, though he knew the question had been rhetorical.

"I'm going to go after her!" Will informed his psychiatrist. "None of this soul-searching or sitting alone in my apartment at night worrying. It's crap. As things stand, we obviously have no problems working together. Obviously, I have no problem spending time with her outside of work and even more obviously, I have _no problem_ kissing her senseless. So you know what? I'm just going to pursue her and figure out the rest of it later. Because I'm sick of this shit. As far as I can tell, the biggest problem is going to be telling Mackenzie that I want... that I want us back."

Jack stared at the man across from him, trying to catch up. He took a breath. "How on earth is _that_ the biggest obstacle?" he asked, still feeling a little discombobulated.

"Well how do I do it?" Will asked practically. "How do I telegraph the change? Ask her out to dinner? I do that pretty much once a week as it is!"

_Well_, Habib thought. _That was the problem with effectively dating a woman for months before you were willing to admit it._ "I'm sure you'll figure it out," he said. Then he smiled. "You seem to have figured everything else out."

"Thank you," Will said a bit warily. He wasn't going to be talked out of this. He actually felt pretty good about the decision, even if his nerves occasionally started jumping in his stomach.

"Although," Habib said casually. "With reference to the forgiveness thing."

Will felt himself get even more defensive. "Yes?"

Jack leaned forward. "Well, has it ever occurred to you that you've forgiven her already?"

S

xxx

TBC

A/N2: So, the bad news is that I think there's only one chapter left. Maybe two, but I think one. I would have given more advanced notice, but I didn't want to telegraph this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are appreciated. For example, through them I learn things like two chapters ago, there was a bet that Will and Mac wouldn't kiss for three chapters. I was amused, because I knew they were destined to lose that bet.


	15. Chapter 14

A/N: And this one is seriously massive. But whatever.

Chapter 14

xxx

_Previously on the Nesroom..._

"_Although," Habib said casually. "As to the forgiveness thing."_

_Will felt himself get even more defensive. "Yes?"_

_Jack leaned forward. "Well, has it ever occurred to you that you've forgiven her already?"_

xxx

Will stared at his psychiatrist in shock. "What?"

Habib smiled. "You admitted it yourself, you're quite happy to spend all kinds of time with her, to give into your physical attraction, to talk to her, to fight with, and for her."

Will gripped the arm of his chair slightly tighter. "So?"

"So, what the hell were you expecting forgiveness to look like exactly?" Habib wondered, watching the other man carefully.

Will just stared at him. "I don't know," he said after a moment. "I guess I thought I'd just know somehow."

"You've watched too many movies," Jack replied.

"What?"

"Will, forgiveness doesn't mean you forget what happened," Habib explained gently. "It means you move on enough that you don't need to carry the pain and anger and resentment around with you all of the time. It means that other things become more important. That rather than dwell on the pain, you move past it."

Will took a deep breath, almost overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through him. "Oh."

And Habib decided to really drive the point home. "When you look at Mackenzie now, what do you think about?"

"It depends," Will said, fidgeting slightly. If he'd forgiven her, if he was really ready to move on then... then he could... oh god.

Jack didn't back down in his questioning. "Well, what are the options?"

"I think she's crazy," Will said immediately. "I think she's beautiful. I think she's frustrating. I think she's brilliant."

"Do you want her?" Habib asked softly.

Will's hold on the chair turned into a death grip. "What kind of a question..."

"_Will."_

"Yes!" he exploded. "_Of course_ I want her." He wanted her so much, sometimes it hurt.

Habib nodded. "And do you see Brian?"

Will recoiled like he'd been slapped. "What?"

But Habib persisted. "When you think about Mackenzie, do you see her with him? Do you see her mistake? Does she cause you pain?"

"No," Will whispered. That was no longer the dominant image in his brain. Oh god. Now when he looked at her or he thought about her, he mostly just saw _her_. Mackenzie McHale. The woman he wanted to be with.

Habib was smiling now. "That's what forgiveness looks like, Will."

"Are you sure?" Will asked.

Jack smirked. It was a bit different for everybody obviously, but... "Pretty sure," he told the other man.

Will frowned, not liking the uncertainty. "What?"

"No one can be sure but you, Will," Jack reminded him.

"But I'm not sure I won't ever get upset about it again," Will argued feebly.

Jack leaned forward. Yes, if Will wanted to, he could open the painful memories back up again. If he chose. "Do you want to be upset about it?"

"No!" Will replied immediately. "But what if we fight and..."

"And you dig up past mistakes?" Habib suggested.

"Yeah," Will admitted softly. What if they made a go of this thing and he fucked it all up because his brain was an awful place sometimes.

"You should try not to do that," Habib said dryly.

Will scowled. "Oh, well thanks Doc."

Habib sighed. Sometimes he felt like he was explaining things to children. "Of course you're not going to be 100% fine with it, 100% of the time. The goal to therapy isn't to make the feelings go away; it's to make them manageable, let you live with them."

Will paused to consider that. That, that might actually be manageable. "So you're saying that maybe I should be striving for 95%?"

Habib was loathe to assign a specific percentage. "I'm saying you need to forget about perfection."

"I used to think she was perfect," Will murmured.

Habib nodded. And that had been part of the problem. "I know. And she apparently thought the same thing about you."

"But she wasn't, was she?" Will asked slowly. She'd been Mackenzie. Wonderful, and amazing, and the woman he was completely in love with, but also tremendously flawed.

"No," Habib agreed "She wasn't perfect."

Will was lost in the memories, trying to sort things out. "It wasn't perfect," he said slowly.

"No." Neither Mackenzie, nor their relationship had been perfect. There was no such thing.

Will took a breath. Maybe part of what had happened had been his fault, or not his fault exactly but maybe... He'd definitely contributed. "I..."

"Will?" Habib prompted.

The anchor tried to explain. "She was always just the huge ball of idealism and light. Still is actually. And I never could figure out how I got so lucky. The fact that she apparently wanted me back made me feel good for the first time in years. She was my perfect Mackenzie." And he'd been so blindly in love with her that he hadn't seen anything else. Maybe not even that she'd been struggling.

"And you felt like you weren't enough," Habib suggested. "She was perfect and you were just you."

"Yeah," Will admitted with a sigh.

"You put her on a pedestal," his psychiatrist continued.

The phrase made him wince, but Will had to admit it was probably true. "Maybe."

"And then she tumbled down," Jack said quietly. "And it crushed you."

Will shut his eyes for a moment. "Yeah."

"Because she wasn't perfect," Habib added.

"I know," Will said softly. He knew that now. That was maybe the one good thing about all that had happened. He couldn't make Mac an ideal anymore.

"You said that to her, when you were arguing," Habib reminded him. "You told her that your relationship couldn't have been perfect."

"Yeah," Will admitted. He had said that. Because at that moment he'd realized at least part of it. He'd realized that he was expecting perfection and that just didn't exist. And maybe so was she, and that's why it wasn't working. Maybe that's why they couldn't get it together. Expectations were just too god damn high. "Do you think I put too much pressure on her and that's why..."

But Jack was unwilling to speculate on that. And anyway, Will needed to talk to Mackenzie. "I think you need to talk to her about that."

"Right," Will conceded. "But you do think forgiving her 95% of the time is okay?"

"I think that the issues aren't just going to go away because you've forgiven her," Habib said cautiously. "I think you need to talk to her. I think sometimes it's going to be tough. I think sometimes she's still going to feel guilty."

Will considered that. Knowing Mac that was almost certain. "Probably."

"I think you need to forget about perfection," Jack couldn't resist pointing out again.

Will paused. There were still so many things he was unsure of. "But what if..."

Jack cut him off. "Will, there's always going to be questions. No relationship is risk-free."

Still, there was one thing nagging at Will. "But what about what happened with Brian?"

Habib considered that. It made sense. Even if Will had forgiven Mackenzie, the fear that she might hurt him again would still be there. "You're afraid she'll do it again?"

"Of course I'm afraid she'll do it again!" Will snapped.

"Well, that's a specific issue you need to address then, wouldn't you think?" Habib asked lightly.

"What?"

Habib smiled. "I find it easier to deal with these things if you identify specific issues."

"So glad you only decided to give me this advice now," Will grumbled. Seriously, he could have started working on some of this _weeks_ago.

"You weren't ready for it before," Jack said airily.

Will just glared. "How would you know?"

Jack shrugged. "I made an executive decision."

"You're not an executive," Will pointed out.

Jack shook his head. "I am. In a company of one."

"I think you're a megalomaniac," Will replied.

"Leave the diagnoses to the professional," Jack said glibly.

Will smirked.

Then he sighed. "Mackenzie still feels guilty. I know she does. I'm not sure if... I mean, even if I have forgiven her, she might still... There'd still probably be pockets of guilt. At the very least."

Habib shrugged, determined not to let Will build up more obstacles in his way. He didn't deserve it. Neither of them did. "So, she'd have pockets of guilt, and you'd have pockets of anger. You couldn't make it work the rest of the time?"

Will froze. Could they make it work the rest of the time? 95% of the time was pretty damn good. Even 90% of the time. He could live with that. That was so much better than... so much more than he'd ever expected. He let out a shaky laugh. "You know, Doc, that might be the first useful thing you've ever said to me."

"I try," Habib said dryly.

Will stood up abruptly.

Habib had to hide his smile. "And where are you going," he asked, despite being pretty sure he knew what the answer was.

"I need to find Mackenzie," Will said, shrugging into his coat. He needed to go and see her. Right now. He wasn't putting this off any longer. He needed to be where she was to tell her... He glanced at his watch. She'd probably still be at home.

"You need to do that right now?" Habib asked.

"Yes," Will said decisively. If traffic was good, he could probably be there in next to no time at all.

"You're sure?" Habib asked innocently.

But Will was firm. He'd made the decision now. "Yes. Otherwise, I'll just come up with some idiotic reason why it can wait until tomorrow."

"And it can't?" Jack double-checked, really enjoying himself.

"No."

"Okay," Habib replied, standing up.

That made Will pause. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Habib assured him, sending him a genuine smile.

Will just stared, his impulsive behaviour finally registering.

"See you next week Will," Habib told him.

That got Will moving again. "Right," he muttered, pulling out his phone.

"And good luck," Jack called after him.

Will wasn't listening anymore, already halfway out the door.

Habib watched as Will pulled out his phone, hearing the tail end of a conversation before the door shut behind him.

"Mac? It's me. Where are you? Okay, do me a favour, would you? Stay there; I need to talk to you."

Habib shook his head softly. Oh how he wished he could be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

xxx

Mackenzie McHale was freaking out. She was taking a small amount of comfort in the fact that she knew it. Not much, but a small amount.

She'd woken with a smile on her face. And why not? Yesterday had been a good day in a lot of ways, a very good day. After all, it wasn't every day that a woman was desperately kissed by the man she was absolutely lost in love with.

Okay, maybe that was how it worked for some lucky women, but it hadn't been Mac's reality in years. Not anywhere close. Though it had been true twice in the last week, which she was choosing to believe indicated a definite upswing in the state of her personal life.

So yeah, yesterday had been a good day. This morning had been good too.

She'd puttered around her getting ready for work, checked the newspaper and the internet for any important news stories, made breakfast, that sort of thing. Then she'd started picking out an outfit for the day.

At which point she'd realized that she'd selected an emerald green blouse. Not a big thing, except that it was almost the exact colour Will had once told her he loved on her. And that was when the freaking out started.

Because was she really doing that now? Dressing to attract Will, to try and make him want her or even just make him pay attention to her? Sure the blouse was attractive, and she loved it on its own, but now, with all the Will stuff going on (not just the kissing, though the kissing was a big part of it), things had gotten complicated. Maybe picking out the blouse was just a coincidence, or a subconscious choice (god damn her subconscious for going after what she wanted more directly than she had). But was she seriously thinking about actively pursuing Will now? Because that would hurt like hell (not to mention potentially destroy their show) if it went wrong or she'd misread things.

And anyway, did she even have the right to pursue Will? After what had happened five years ago... Mac steeled herself.

No.

No, no, no. She was done with that. Or at least she should be. She couldn't pay for a single mistake for the rest of her life. It wasn't fair. And anyway, he'd told her to stop doing penance, he'd told her...

He'd told her a lot of things actually. Will had told her he was trying to forgive her, that he was happy to spend time with her, that he didn't want to cause her pain, but that he wasn't sure they could ever be friends. Then he'd kissed her. And now she was so fucking confused it wasn't even funny. The only thing Mac wasn't confused about was that she wanted him. And she wanted him to notice her in her blouse.

Well, okay she also wanted to find out what the hell was going on, because she wasn't sure how much longer she could take this not knowing. It didn't help that she had next to no idea what he was thinking.

Well, except that he didn't seem to mind kissing her. She had grabbed Will and kissed him not even twenty four hours earlier. She'd grabbed him and held him exactly where she'd wanted him for as long as she'd wanted. Okay, not as long as she'd wanted, as long as she'd dared. Still, it'd been a pretty long time. And he hadn't seemed to mind at all.

In fact, he'd responded later with a kiss of his own. Or rather multiple kisses. Kisses that had left her longing for so much, it was almost painful. Or it would have been if he hadn't still been there when he'd pulled away from her. Still near. And he'd been close by all evening, all through the show. Just on the other side of the monitor, smiling at her, talking to her, just there. So when Mac had gone out for drinks with Sloan afterwards, she'd been happy. It felt like maybe, for the first time in years, she and Will were on the same page, or at least reading from the same book.

Mac fidgeted with a stack of bills on her kitchen counter, trying to calm herself. Trying not to get her hopes up too high.

Except that, even apart from the kissing, Will was apparently rejecting offers from beautiful, accomplished, intelligent women in favour of spending the day with her, Mackenzie McHale, instead (a thought that still created a bubble of warmth in her chest). Surely that was progress too? Slow progress, but progress nonetheless. Not that Mac minded going slow. She had no problem with slow. At this point, moving slowly was probably a good idea.

She just wished she had some idea what they were moving towards.

(And she didn't dare hope that it was what it sometimes seemed like it might be.)

So now she was wearing the stupid green blouse, because at this point, what could it hurt? Maybe a little push was necessary, or at least a little encouragement. Even if the idea also made her feel vaguely uneasy.

A friendship was easy, if maybe not ideal. This, whatever it was, that they were doing wasn't easy. This was terrifying. Terrifying, but also maybe wonderful.

She just wasn't sure she could afford to get her hopes up again.

Then her phone rang. Mac grabbed it immediately, surprised by the number on her screen, though she wasn't sure why. He'd always had the most uncanny timing. "Hello."

"Mac?" Will's voice asked in her ear. "It's me. Where are you?"

She frowned, not expecting the question. "I'm at home," she told him, glancing at her watch. 10:30, like she'd thought. "Just getting ready to go to work."

"Okay," Will said. "Do me a favour, would you? Stay there; I need to talk to you."

Mac knew it was irrational, but her stomach dropped out at those words. It wasn't quite the clichéd _We need to talk,_ but it still didn't sound particularly good. "It can't wait until we get to work?" she asked lightly.

"I don't want to have this conversation at work," Will replied. "Just, it's important. I know you like to be there for the first rundown meeting, but just this once could you call Jim and let him handle it? Please."

She'd have done it anyway, but his soft please got her right in the chest, leaving her helpless to resist. "Of course," she assured him. "I'll call Jim and tell him I'll be about an hour late."

"Tell him something's come up, or you were delayed, or I don't know," Will said, "You'll figure it out.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can handle this, Billy" Mac said dryly. After all, given that she couldn't remember the last time she'd showed up after 11, she was pretty sure she wouldn't even need an explanation. Not that Jim was going to ask for one.

Will smiled to himself as he searched for a cab, forgetting for a moment that she couldn't see him.

Mac hesitated. "Is everything okay?" she asked softly.

Will winced as he climbed into the backseat of a taxi, realizing he'd probably really freaked her out. "Just a sec," he told her as he gave the driver her address. "Sorry about that," he murmured.

"S'okay," Mac assured him, biting her lip.

"Nothing's wrong," he assured her. "I'm fine. The show's fine. Pretty sure you're fine too, unless there's something you're not telling me."

"No," Mac murmured.

"Good," Will replied. "It's just, I suddenly realized I needed to talk to you right away. It's important, but it's not bad news. You'll like it, at least, I think…" Will took a breath, trying to tamp down on rising insecurities. This is why they needed to have this conversation now. Right now. Before he talked himself out of it because he was half-terrified. He closed his eyes and searched for the feeling of realizing he'd forgiven her, ordering himself to relax.

"Will?" Mac asked breathlessly.

He smiled, her voice helping him in finding pleasant memories. "Not all conversations are bad news, Mackenzie," he reminded her gently. "Aren't you supposed to be the optimistic one while I'm the cranky bastard?"

The affection in his voice knocked her off-balance (or it would have if she wasn't already half there). "You're not a jerk, Billy."

Will realized he was smiling again. "I'll be there as soon as I can, say fifteen minutes?"

"I'll be here," Mac promised.

"Okay," Will replied. "And Mac?"

"Yeah?"

He tried to convey his smile down the phone line. "Try and calm down."

Mac hung up her phone, absently dropping it on the table and feeling anything but calm.

Not bad news? He didn't think it was bad news, and he seemed pretty certain she wouldn't either. Which unless she'd been sending him really mixed signals…

Mac winced, because he'd been sending her mixed signals. So maybe she'd done the same thing inadvertently.

She'd been over it all again and again in her head, and she still couldn't make any sense of it.

She desperately wanted to believe that they were moving forward, but she wasn't sure she could quite get there.

God, she was going to be a nervous wreck before he even arrived.

And anyway, didn't he have therapy this morning? Right now actually? What was so important that he'd apparently abandoned the session midway through? What…

What did he want? To spend their free time together over various meals, with the odd kiss thrown in for variety?

Mac giggled before she could help herself. That mightn't be too bad. If Will wanted to do everything but label the relationship, she wasn't necessarily opposed…

Though she wouldn't be his dirty little secret he was too afraid to admit to either.

And seriously, what did he mean by good? He thought whatever he wanted to talk to her about was good, but maybe he'd think retribution for what she'd done to him five years ago was good. She felt the guilt and pain start to resurface, threatening to overwhelm. After all, maybe this was some sort of cruel trick, one designed to raise her hopes and so cause her more pain… Maybe…

No.

_No._

Mac shook her head, ruthlessly clearing that line of thinking from her brain. It wasn't fair, to either of them. He wouldn't do that to her. Not now. Not her Will. Hadn't he told her that he was trying not to hurt her all the time, that she had to try to move past things too? He might have been cruel two years ago, but… that was two years ago. And he wasn't cruel, not that cruel.

So it must be something he actually thought was good news.

The thought made hope well up in her chest as Mac tried to contain her grin.

Will was right. They did need to talk. And she had things she needed to say to him too. Things about how she'd made a mistake and done a horrible thing but that didn't mean he could string her along indefinitely. Not that he'd been doing that. But if he was going to keep kissing her, she was going to demand an explanation. And god damn it, she deserved one.

Yes.

Yes, that would work. She could do that. She didn't want to make demands, and she really didn't want him to stop kissing her (_god no_), she just wanted a little clarification.

And if she was lucky, that was exactly what Will wanted to. With that conclusion, Mac heard the knock on the door.

As she went to answer it, she ordered herself to calm down, not to get too excited. To just look calm and friendly. She would just be normal. Pleased to see him, but _normal._ After all, like the blouse, there was nothing wrong with a little encouragement. Just a little smile.

The result was that she was practically beaming when she opened her front door.

Will was standing on the other side of it trying not to fidget. And reminding himself that this was what he wanted. Very much what he wanted.

Then the door swung open and he stopped needing to remind himself.

She just looked so happy. Nervous, maybe even a little bit cautious, definitely beautiful (he loved that colour on her), but for the most part… happy.

And that was what made it easier to take that final step towards her. His arm slid around her waist and he kissed her. The fact that the simple kiss in greeting felt like the most natural thing in the world chased away the worst of his nerves. After a moment, he pulled back, stroking her cheek.

Mac let her eyes flutter open and leaned her forehead against his. Things were definitely starting off well. "I thought you wanted to talk," she reminded him.

"That too," Will admitted, playing with her hair. He wanted a lot of things.

Mac giggled. "Billy…"

He angled the two of them into her apartment so she could shut the door before dropping another kiss on her lips. It'd been over twelve hours since he'd kissed her last, after all.

A little while later he was practically wrenching his lips from hers. "No," he muttered. "I really do need to talk to you."

Mac nodded, hating the sudden anxiety she could feel brewing in her gut. She stepped backwards. Still she stuck to her guns. "I need to talk to you too."

It was all Will could do not to go after her when she stepped back. He settled for reaching for her hand. "Of course. You're right. Just, let me go first, okay? There's something I need to say to you, something that can't wait and I just... You can say whatever you want afterwards. Whatever you need, I promise."

Mac just stared at her fingers, toying with hers. "Don't you have therapy today?"

Will nodded. "I just came from there. Left midway through actually."

"Why?" she whispered.

He shrugged, trying to be casual. "This seemed more important all of a sudden. Like I said, I couldn't wait any longer."

"To come and kiss me hello?" she asked softly.

Will shook his head. "Well, that too, I guess," he said upon further consideration. "But mostly because I wanted to ask you... I wanted to ask you if you'd be okay with forgiveness 95% of the time."

Mac was pretty sure time stopped for a moment. Forgiveness? Did he mean... _"What?"_ she gasped, forcing herself to breathe.

The question unstopped Will's throat and caused the words to just come tumbling out. "That's why I had to leave my therapy session and come talk to you right away. Because I realized that I've forgiven you, Mackenzie, for all of it. It probably happened ages ago, and I didn't even realize. For God only knows how long. I can't say I'll never get angry about it, that I've forgotten, that it'll never come up. But for the most part, I think I've, well, come to terms. And I was wondering if you'd be okay with me being okay with it 95% of the time, with the odd relapse on a bad day. I'm not perfect Mackenzie, but I am trying. I was wondering if you'd be okay with not trying for perfection, but well, working on something _good_."

"_Okay with it?"_ she repeated emotionally, trying to control her breathing.

And Will realized in his rambling he'd left out a crucial detail. He grabbed her hands. "I want you back Mac, I want _us _back. So much. You have to know that. You have to..." Looking at the shock on her face, he suddenly realized that maybe she didn't know. "Oh god, you don't." He gripped her forearms, inching closer until their bodies were almost touching as she looked up at him with those eyes that always told him exactly what she was feeling.

"Will..." she whimpered.

"I'm not going to rush you," he told her gently. "I've had lots of time to think about this, probably more than you have. It's okay. I'll give you time, all the time you need. You don't need to answer right away. If you need some time..."

She stared at him, not quite able to believe what was going on. _Time?_ She didn't need any time. "But..."

"But?"

"But what about Brian?" she whispered, before cursing herself for bringing it up.

Will's grip tightened slightly on her arms. "What about Brian?"

"What about my cheating on you?" Mac pressed. She needed to make sure. She couldn't do this on a whim. It would break her.

Will leaned his forehead against hers, and tried to explain. Except that he couldn't find the words.

"Will?" Mac prompted.

He took a deep breath. "Yeah, we need to talk about that. If we tried again, it would need to be... I mean, we'd have to start off exclusive, right from the start Mac. Because I can't share you. I just can't."

Mackenzie let out a shaky breath, and made him a promise. "You wouldn't have to."

Will's heart started beating a little too quickly. He slid an arm around her waist. "Mac?"

"I give you my word, Billy," she said quietly but firmly. "No one but you. I don't want anyone else, and I don't want you to see anyone else either. I couldn't deal with that either, if we..."

Will sighed, releasing the tension he hadn't realized had been collecting in his shoulders. "Okay."

"Do you believe me?" Mac asked hopefully.

"I'm trying to," Will assured her. Part of him did, he just wasn't sure it'd hit home yet. "I really am trying. It might take time..."

Mac inched forward, running a hand up his chest. "Can I try and convince you?"

Will couldn't take his eyes off hers. "Please."

Mac took a deep breath. "Do you remember that first story we did together, all those years ago? I managed to overload a monitor until it crashed and we had to do the interview with a foreign head of state with audio only?"

"Of course I remember that," Will said. It'd been one of the first times he'd met her. He'd been half in love with her even then. "It wasn't either of our finest hours."

Mac nodded. "Do you remember what you said to me afterwards, when you came to find me?"

"You were half drunk in a corner in some dive bar if I remember correctly," Will mused, remembering the night well.

"Yeah," Mac agreed. "And do you remember what you said?"

Will paused. "Yeah."

But Mac was going to tell him anyway. "You bought me a drink. I asked why you weren't trying to get rid of me, or at least just mad."

Will trailed his fingers up and down her arm, suddenly desperate to touch her. "Mac..."

"And you asked if I knew how badly I'd screwed up," Mac murmured, wrapping one arm around his waist.

"You said you did," Will said softly. He'd known it was true. Mac's guilt over her error had been written all over her face.

"And you asked if anyone felt worse about it than me," Mac said, moving towards the end of the story.

"You said no," Will whispered.

"And you told me you didn't ever think I'd make the same mistake again then." It'd been really useful advice. She'd passed it along to several people herself over the years. Mac took a breath, turning back to the subject at hand. "Now, I'll grant you that you probably feel _as bad_ about the Brian thing, but do you honestly think that I could feel worse about it? Or that if I got another chance to try and be with you, I'd screw it up again?"

Will wasn't sure he was even breathing anymore. He didn't care. If she meant that... if... "Kenz..."

"Do you have any idea how much I've missed you, Billy?" she asked quietly, reveling in being in his personal space.

"I have some idea," Will admitted.

She nodded. "I know how badly I screwed up Will. I had _three_ _years_ to think about it. Three years of wishing I could take it back. If I have another chance, do you really think I'd be so stupid as to do it again?"

"_If_ you get another chance?" Will asked incredulously. Did she not understand that she _had_ another chanceÉ That was exactly what he was standing here offering her.

Mac nodded. "Well, it's not just my decision, is it? Do you believe me?"

Will stared down at the imploring eyes in front of him. He did believe her. He couldn't not. "You're very convincing."

Mac sent him a blinding smile, the happiness crashing through her almost frightening in its intensity. "Good."

Her smile caused something to lighten in Will's chest. "I love you Mackenzie."

And with that the joy Mac was feeling shifted to shock. "_What?"_

Will felt her go rigid in his arms and did his best to try and calm her, realizing he'd probably moved a little too fast again. But he couldn't _not _tell her that. He needed her to know. "I know you probably don't believe me, because of all the..."

"Last week you told me you didn't think we could be friends!" Mac interrupted a little hysterically. And that had hurt more than she'd ever imagined it could.

Will winced. "I know! I know! I'm so sorry. But I love you. And if all you want is friends, I'll do my best. But it might not be enough, okay? Like I said, I know this is probably really fast. I can slow down. You don't need to decide anything today, I just need you to know. Anyway, I think I'd like to pursue you for a little, because you deserve..." He trailed off when he realized the woman in his arms was practically shaking.

Will went into damage control. "Mac are you okay? _Oh god._ It's okay. I know I made up my mind too quickly for you last time and you weren't quite sure. It's okay. It's whatever you need."

"I need you to say it again," she whispered softly.

And with that Will realized that he may have misread the problem. He was only too happy to comply with her request. "I'm in love with you," he assured her, rubbing soothing circles along the small of her back.

"Oh," she gasped.

"Oh?" he repeated incredulously. It wasn't exactly the response he'd been hoping for.

Mac shook her head, trying to clear it. It was all too much. He'd said he had good news, but this was too good. This was... It couldn't be real. "Um, actually, I think I need you to tell me that I'm not dreaming. That I didn't just fall asleep on my desk. That in five minutes I'm not going to wake up in my office, horribly alone, with an imprint of my notebook on my face." She'd had this dream (or a variation of it) so many times that...

Will was smiling again. "You're not dreaming, Mac," he assured her.

Mac shook her head quickly. "Except that's exactly what you'd say to me in a dream."

Will put his hand on her cheek. "You're not dreaming Mackenzie," he murmured before kissing her.

"Still what you'd do if I was," she whispered, when he pulled away.

He looked at her considering. To her surprise, he smiled, trailing his lips down her neck. He'd always loved a challenge, and he _had _told her he wanted to pursue her.

As she felt his lips make their way along the sensitive spots on her neck, Mac decided at least this dream was a particularly good one.

Then Will got to her pulse point, letting his mouth linger there.

She sighed.

He started reciting baseball statistics.

She froze, not sure what was going on. "Will?"

He nuzzled his way back up to her ear. "Does this happen in the dream?" he whispered.

Mac let out a shaky laugh. She had to give him that one. "No. There's less discussion of batting averages and stolen bases in the dream."

"Nothing wrong with stealing a few bases," he murmured against the shell of her ear.

Her laughter turned more genuine, "Billy!"

He thrilled at the joy in her voice, unwittingly tightening his hold on her before running a hand up and down her back.

"I'm in love with you Mackenzie," He murmured. Then he flicked the back of her neck.

"Ow!" she said loudly.

Will placed an apologetic kiss on her cheek. "Sorry. But a pinch would have been a cliché; you might have assumed it would happen in a dream."

"Will..." she murmured, leaning into him.

"You know, time is on my side," he pointed out. "Because I don't know how long your dreams usually last, but eventually we're going to get past that length of time. Eventually you're going to have to give me an answer." He had no problem holding her until they reached that point. Will found he was really enjoying fighting for her. Having something that he cared enough about to go after, something in his personal life.

"An answer?" Mac repeated, trying to follow the conversation. It was difficult given the other things his lips were doing.

"About whether or not you think we could ever try again," Will explained. "About whether..."

He trailed off when Mac suddenly grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. Her eyes were wide.

"This never happens in the dream," she said bluntly.

Will paused. "What?"

"You don't have to ask..." Mac explained. "You just... Oh...Oh, oh oh oh, _oh._"

"Mac?"

"You know right away. You just, you know," Mac told him. She'd dreamed of him more than once, and he'd never questioned _her_ feelings. "Like when we met. You knew right away. It took me longer, and I was an idiot. I know that." She squeezed his chin when it looked like he might interrupt. "But once I did know... It's _always_ been you, Billy. For five years. _Of course_ I'm still in love with you. _Of course_ I want to try again. _Of course_ I... mmpff."

Whatever Mackenzie was going to say next was cut off by Will's lips on hers. Mackenzie buried her hands in his hair and kissed him back, thrilled when she realized that she was starting to re-familiarize herself with the feel of his mouth. Will's hands were digging into her hips, holding her against him.

He was the one to pull back first. "We can't do this."

Mac froze in confusion. "What?"

Will swore internally before hastening to reassure her. He started playing with the strands of hair that had fallen into her face. "I meant we can't do this now, because we have to get to work."

Mackenzie sighed in relief. "Oh, right."

"We can't both show up three hours late," he pointed out.

Mackenzie raised an eyebrow. "Three hours?"

"If we got there at all," he told her truthfully. He didn't want to rush her, but if they stayed where they were, and she kept kissing him like that, he would not be held responsible for his actions. He was willing to be patient, but even that had its limits. The fact that they both had jobs was the only thing stopping him from trying to nudge her towards her bedroom. Or actually, at this point up against the wall in her entryway would be fine too.

Mac stared at him for a moment, before stretching up to kiss him slowly. Will was just considering how best to call in sick, when she transitioned to a hug, wrapping herself around him.

Will leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "I'm not against picking this up later though."

He felt her smile against his neck. "I hope not."

"Though, we don't have to rush," Will murmured. "If you don't want to."

"What?" she asked.

"And I know you stood by and you waited for two years," he explained. "Well, I'm waiting now."

Mac snuggled further into his arms. She was so happy, it was frightening.

"I haven't dated anyone in almost a year," Will added.

That caught her attention. "Really?" she asked happily.

"Well, other than you," Will qualified.

Mackenzie pulled back with a frown. "Me?"

"Habib seems to think I've been dating you," Will explained, running his fingers through the hair framing her face.

"If that was true, you think we'd have been aware of it," Mac couldn't help pointing out.

"That's what I said!" Will replied.

"Good," Mac said.

"I mean, can't two friends share a simple meal from time to time? Will asked.

"Exactly my point!" Mac said enthusiastically.

"Yeah."

"Besides, I think I'd like to control when I start dating someone," Mac muttered.

Will grinned at her. "Well, exactly."

"I thought you said he was a good therapist?" Mac asked, enjoying the fact that she was still half in his arms.

"He is," Will assured her. "But sometimes he gets... ideas."

"Hmm."

Will smiled. "Have dinner with me tonight."

That got Mac's attention. "As two friends sharing a simple meal?"

Will's smile was slow. "What do you think?"

Her breath caught as she pretended to consider the question. "Hmmm."

"Mac?" Will prompted a bit nervously.

"So, this would be a date then?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

And with that, Will realized that she'd been toying with him.

"Answer the question, Billy," Mac prompted.

He shook his head. "First answer my question about whether you think we could give being us a try again."

She stared at him. "I _did_ answer that."

"Not directly," He said stubbornly. Or maybe she had, but he wanted to hear it again.

"Well, maybe if you could just ask me out on a proper date..." Mac grumbled.

And Will gave in. Besides, he liked telling her how he felt, particularly since she seemed to like hearing it. He loved the look she got in her eyes. "Mackenzie, I'm in love with you. I want to be with you. Would you go out to dinner with me tonight as a way of helping that along?"

She kissed him quickly.

"According to you, that doesn't count as an answer," he murmured

She smiled before kissing him again.

"We should go to work," he whispered.

"Yeah," she agreed, sliding out of his arms.

"Mac?" he asked.

She smiled suddenly. "You can pick me up after the show. We'll get dinner."

Will picked up her hand and kissed it. "It's a date," he told her, before opening her front door and ushering her out of her apartment.

"Oh!" he said suddenly. "What did you want to say to me?"

"Nothing," she said quickly.

"_Mac,_" Will said in warning.

Mackenzie turned to him as they waited for the elevator. "I wanted to tell you that you couldn't just kiss me and string me along without telling me what you wanted, or if you wanted anything or..."

"So we already cleared that up, then?" he summarized.

She leaned against his shoulder. They'd cleared it up and then some. She still couldn't quite believe what was happening.. "Yeah."

"I want you," he whispered against the top of her head.

She smiled. "Ditto."

Will took her hand in his with a smile. Leaving his therapy session early had been the best decision he'd ever made. And he had a feeling he'd have a number of things to tell Habib next week.

Will glanced down at the woman next to him, who was lost in her thoughts. He wasn't sure if she was plotting something for their show, or for them. He didn't care. He knew the upcoming weeks probably weren't going to be easy, but he was pretty sure they'd be more than worth it.

Especially since this time, they were both determined to make it work.

He really did feel almost stupidly happy.

Will almost laughed. He had a feeling the show tonight might be interesting...

xxx

The end

A/N: So, I went with a format change for this one. I decided it was best in the end. Still not sure how I feel about it. It's the end for now, but I may decide to epilogue. Because I'm not sure. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. This fic has made me realize how much I enjoy writing Newsroom fic. So much so that I'm pretty sure I'm writing it for het_bigbang, which should be out in September. Anyway, thanks to all my lovely reviewers and to people who took the time to read my story. I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
